


www.BestBoy.com

by SushiOwl



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Biting, Condoms, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daddy Kink, Dating, Exhibitionism, Feels, Haunted Houses, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Coital Cuddling, Stripping, Sugar Daddy, Teasing, Webcams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-06 10:26:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 65,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11034285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SushiOwl/pseuds/SushiOwl
Summary: It's not Stiles's fault. He was typing fast and not paying attention. It wasn't like he meant to land on this kind of website...





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -obnoxious shrug emote- Here you go?
> 
> You guys voted for it. It's your fault.
> 
> don't look at me and get ready for that slow burn
> 
> I **do not** give my consent to have my works listed on goodreads.

If there was any defense to be had, it was that the O key and the U key were very close together, and Stiles was typing with one hand while pounding a Monster. So it’s not necessarily his fault that while he was trying to go to BestBuy.com to preorder a game, he landed on an entirely different page. He crushed his empty energy drink can in his hand and chucked toward the trash can in the corner, thinking briefly that he needed to take the trash out and knowing he wouldn’t until he was buried under garbage like a troll, before he looked back at his monitor. He started in surprise.

“The hell is this?” he asked his empty, messy room as he stared at the page. BestBoy.com. Was he being punked? This couldn’t be a real page, right? Obviously he needed to explore.

_A place where Daddies find the best baby boys…_

Now, Stiles was not an idiot. He knew about the Daddy thing. Kind of. Well, he knew that a lot of his classmates made fun of it, so it was weird or whatever, right?

About twenty minutes of trying to find out what the fuss was about, Stiles kept hitting walls. Most of the website was accessed via account. Stiles drummed his fingers lightly on his spacebar. How much did a membership to a site like this cost? He wasn’t too well versed in the cost of porn websites--yes, he was, though he hadn’t joined one. It couldn’t be too expensive though, right?

He clicked on the membership link and was about to just skim through to see what people were paying for this when he saw _Become a Baby Boy_ on the sidebar. 

Knowing he shouldn’t click on it because Lydia always said that his curiosity was the trait that would put him in a grave, he clicked on it anyway and started reading.

At first Stiles this was all about letting old dudes watch young men take their clothes off and wank or whatever, and yeah, that seemed to be part of it. But as Stiles kept reading he found the word _companionship_ popping up often. Were these guys just lonely? Also apparently you didn’t have to take off your clothes. You could just talk.

He didn’t have much time to ponder that, because then he got to the _How much will you make…_ section, and his eyes all about fell out of his head. One of the most popular baby boys on the site, a guy that had the handle SweetPrince, made over $500 a session these days. It was easy to see why for his profile picture. He had a model’s pouty lips, a jawline carved right out of stone, stormy blue eyes and curly, light brown hair. He looked like he could charm people out of their last pennies.

Stiles noted that the average pay during an hour-long session was $75, but now he had visions of earning $500 for an hour a night. He could buy all the video games then!

And buy food. That was also important.

So he was doing this? Okay. _Okay._ It wasn’t like he had any other job prospects lined up. Time to find out what becoming a cam boy was like. He clicked on the application and blinked, because it looked exactly like every application he had filled out for a job.

He jotted down his basic information, took a moment to go hunting through his room for his wallet so he could put down his driver’s license number, blanked for an embarrassing ten seconds on what his social security number was, then moved on to work history. There wasn’t much to put down, honestly. The entirety of his work experience was the summers after his sophomore, junior and senior years where he worked at the police station. He had done filing and managed to put the database in a rational order and digitize it, which was magic, to be honest.

Stiles was worried for a hot second that he would have to provide references and might have had an out of body experience as he imagined how that conversation would go. _”Hello, Stiles listed you as his previous employer. Would you say he is a good worker? Honest? Willing to be sexy and submissive to make old men feel loved so they’ll give him money?”_ and then his father would just materialize in his room and the shouting would start. But the website didn’t ask for any references.

Also instead of asking questions like _”What do you think makes you the right fit for this job?_ or _”What is your experience in this field?”_ , they only asked for pictures. It was a little awkward, but Stiles took his picture in the mirror of his bathroom, wearing one of his three clean shirts and his nicest jeans. He’d even styled his hair a bit. Yeah, he looked hot.

Wait, was he supposed to be hot or cute? He waffled over it a second, turning in three circles, before he decided to just go with how he looked, telling himself not to act so crazy. 

It wasn’t like this was serious or anything.

Once he was down to five images he liked, he went back to the computer and uploaded them to the application. Then he moved on to the section marked as _Limits_. Before he could agonize over money vs his comfort level, he heaved a sigh when he read that he could change his limits at any time in his employment.

Chat - Will

Video - Will

Nudity - Won’t

Private Sessions - Won’t

That was easy. After that, all he needed to do was make a copy of his driver’s license--his scanner/printer was currently the house for his clean clothes, she had to do some finagling--then pick a profile picture. He did a little Photoshop magic on his favorite selfie, making his eyes a little brighter and his lips just a little pinker. There, now he looked like an up and coming porn star.

Upon hitting submit, a cheerful message bid him farewell. _”Thank you for your submission. We will review and contact you soon should you meet our criteria.”_

Stiles stared at it. “Holy shit…”

* * *

After freaking out a little bit that night, Stiles had gone to sleep and woken up the next morning with the self-reassurance that there was no way he could become a cam boy. They wouldn’t call him back. They’d take one look at his application, stamp it with giant red letters that said _WEIRD_ and toss it.

Yeah, Stiles wasn’t the type. So he went to class, set on just forgetting about it.

He paid attention in class, took notes and focused on the essay he had to write for his honors English class. He met with Scott for lunch at In-n-Out, and they had a French fry duel over the last bit of Monster sauce. 

“So did you get the DLC last night?” Scott asked, mouth partway full, as he wiped at his fingers.

Oh, that was why he was going to BestBuy.com last night. Stiles had totally forgotten. “Um, no, got distracted,” Stiles said, acting very interested in his straw all of the sudden. “I’ll get it tonight.”

“Kay,” Scott said with a shrug.

Scott left with Kira afterward, and Stiles gagged at their (frankly tame) PDA. It was just a little kiss, but Stiles had to make a scene like he was catching fire or he would have to turn in his Best Bro card.

After his last class, Stiles was part way home before he remembered his study group, so he made a U-turn on his bike while letting out a loud _uuuuugh!_ and headed toward Lydia’s place.

Stiles couldn’t tell if it was fortune or the opposite that he’d landed in a class with Lydia this year. He had adored her for years, and he was lucky enough to be her friend these days, but now she had taken it upon herself to make sure he rivaled her for valedictorian. At least that was what she said. Stiles had a little feeling that she really just liked being the teacher… or at least in charge.

When he knocked on her door, she answered and presented him with laminated flash cards and notes organized by highlighter color. Thankfully he didn’t need a cypher to read her notes, unlike the rare times he borrowed Scott’s. Her handwriting was actually legible.

As the study session was going and Lydia was explaining something to a hapless stray she’d picked up--his name was Aiden, and Stiles was half sure he was playing down his intelligence so Lydia would talk to him--Stiles phone buzzed in his pocket. He looked down, expecting to find an email from Steam telling him one of his fifty or so wishlist items were on sale or maybe a message from Hot Topic telling him he really did need that Rick and Morty shirt, really this time. But instead he found an email from  
and oh holy god.

_To Stiles,_

_Thank you again for submitting your application. I am to inform you that we would like to conduct a video interview tonight at 8pm your time if you are available. It will be with myself and my colleage. The interview is informal, but please be prepared to answer some questions that will pertain to working with us._

_Mr Boyd_

Stiles stared down at the email, breath caught in his chest. What did he say? The idea that he could make $500 a night floated back into his brain, so he tapped out a quick return email that he was available for that interview.

* * *

It was almost 8pm, and Stiles was trying to tell himself this was no big deal. It was just an interview. He’d had interviews before. Of course he had never gotten a job he’d interviewed for, which explained why the only boss he had ever had was his father. He was sitting at his computer, awaiting further instructions and wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans.

It was five before eight when he got an email. It was a website with a temporary log in. He let out a shuddering breath through his nose, before he clicked the link and logged in. Immediately a screen came up of a sitting room. There was a table with two chairs, and there was a little sign on the table that said _Be With You Soon._

It was only a couple minutes before a black man and a blonde woman came into view, sitting down. The woman gave a little wave as the man removed the sign. Stiles waved hesitantly back. These people looked his age.

“Hello, Mr Stilinski,” the man said without smiling or really even looking at Stiles. “My name is Mr Boyd, and this is Ms Reyes.” The woman smiled at him. “We are moderators for Best Boy. We just want to talk with you about what happens when you are a baby boy and ask a few questions. Is that alright with you?”

“Yes, sir,” Stiles said, nodding like a bobblehead.

Mr Boyd looked up as Ms Reyes laughed into her hand. “It absolutely tickles me when someone calls you ‘sir’,” she said, elbowing her co-worker as his lips pressed into a line.

“I-I’m sorry, should I not have--?” Stiles tried to say.

“It’s alright. But no need for honorifics,” Mr Boyd said, before he cleared his throat. “So, you’ve applied for the position, but the explanation on the landing page didn’t have all the info.”

Stiles frowned, and it was obvious that he was thinking something dire. What had he signed up for.

Ms Reyes waved her hand at him. “Nothing like you’re imagining right now. What we mean is the payment and loyalty system wasn’t explained.”

Stiles let out a whistling sigh. “Oh.”

“All channels are technically free,” Mr Boyd went on. “You get paid a base amount of twenty dollars just for going on air. Any other pay depends on the consumers.”

Ms Reyes nodded along. “The Daddies that visit your channel have the option of spending tokens on you. Each token is a dollar that goes directly into your pocket.”

“The website gets its funding from membership fees, so all tips you make are yours,” Mr Boyd elaborated, and Stiles nodded, pleased to hear this. “Most baby boys have a system to get tokens, a quid pro quo, but you don’t need to worry about that right now. You’ll learn what the customers like.”

“All baby boys do eventually,” Ms Reyes agreed. “We know that you put nudity as one of your Won’ts, and that’s not a problem. We have plenty channels without nudity that do just fine.”

Stiles felt himself sag a little bit. He was thankful for that.

“As for payment, that’s up to you. You can pick a day to collect your tokens or cash them out at the end of every session.” Mr Boyd was so matter-of-fact about this.

“Oh!” Erica lifted a finger. “The only things we do take out of your pay is social security and federal income tax. You’ll get a W2 and everything. But hey, tax return!”

Yeah, that was pretty much the only thing to look forward to as an adult.

“We’ll just need your bank information for the direct deposit,” Mr Boyd added, like he was reading from cue cards. Maybe he just had all the boring details memorized.

Ms Reyes started elbowing him, smiling as he just looked at her with a blank expression. “Tell him about the loyalty system,” she said, giving a little bounce in her seat.

“You could tell him, you know,” Mr Boyd said, and was that the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. “The loyalty system is pretty easy to figure out. Customers can dedicate an allotted amount of tokens to a baby boy, just one, so they get paid even if the customer isn’t able to log on.”

“Another thing we suggest doing is making an Amazon Wishlist,” Ms Reyes went on, and she smiled as Stiles lifted his brows. “They are fairly anonymous and a good way for the daddies to pamper you.”

“And the customers definitely like to buy gifts for the baby boys. Be prepared to get a package every day if you get a few loyal patrons,” Boyd added.

Stiles nodded along, feeling just a touch overwhelmed.

“Alright, now that that’s out of the way, let’s get to the questions, shall we?” Ms Reyes said, before she pulled a sheet of paper and some librarian glasses out of nowhere, setting the latter on the tip of his nose.

Mr Boyd actually rolled his eyes.

“Have you ever done any amateur cam shows for pay before?” Ms Reyes asked, sounding weirdly like Professor McGonagall in the process.

Stiles couldn’t help his snort as he smiled. “No.”

“When you make a cam schedule, will you be able to keep up with it, barring any loss of internet, power or medical emergencies?”

Stiles flicked his eyes to the side, trying to remember what his free nights were, but he could figure that out later. “Yes.”

“Some of Daddies can get a little too into the fantasy of having you all to themselves. Are you able to maintain a professional distance between yourself and the customers?”

Stiles squinted and leaned his head to the side. “Yes?”

Ms Reyes giggled, taking off her glasses. “Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out.” She set down the glasses and piece of paper. “The only thing you need to make sure you do is separate your work from your personal life.”

“A customer may ask you for your phone number or a social networking account name. Be polite about it, but remind them that Best Boy policy is that all communication is limited to the channel chats and the website’s messaging system.” Mr Boyd slid the paper that Ms Reyes had been reading off of closer, flipping it over to look at it. He frowned at Ms Reyes as she grinned at him. Then he showed the front of the paper to the camera.

“Is that Sailor Moon?” Stiles asked, chuckling. It was a pretty good drawing.

“Yes!” Ms Reyes said, leaning forward so the view was mostly her face. “I like you.”

Stiles laughed a little louder. “Thanks, I like you too.”

“Do you like Sailor Moon Crystal? I’m obsessed, it’s like I’m a kid again,” Ms Reyes started to babble. “And oh, oh, Free! I never thought I’d give a shit about swimming, but I’m so into it. Or! Or, Yuri!!! On Ice. Now that’s a show I watch in curlers with my mouth full of popcorn. What’s your favorite anime?”

“Um,” Stiles tried, his brain blanking like he hadn’t watched all of Naruto.

Ms Reyes’s smile broke as she fell back into her chair with an oof when Mr Boyd tugged her. She gave him an annoyed look, and he just stared blandly back. 

“Moving on,” he said. “Like all jobs, you can’t please everyone.”

“Some daddies are just jerks,” Ms Reyes added, nodding.

“If someone says something rude in your channel, give them one warning and one warning only.” Mr Boyd lifted a single finger. “If they continue the behavior, remove them and give their username to either me or Ms Reyes.”

“If we have their handle, we can put a watch on their account,” Ms Reyes said, nodding.

“What does that do?” Stiles asked.

“If a customer is booted from two rooms while they are under a watch, they are suspended for a full week. Any further unsuitable behavior will result in a ban,” Mr Boyd explained.

“But just because that sounds like a terrible punishment, don’t be afraid to kick anyone out,” Ms Reyes went on. “The number one rule set down by KingDaddy is that the comfort and safety of the baby boys is paramount.” 

Stiles blinked at that. “King… Daddy?” Just saying it made him feel weird.

“The owner,” Ms Reyes elaborated. “I think he chose that name so no one else could have it. He’s incredibly territorial like that.” She rolled her eyes like she was talking about a silly uncle. “He’s a good boss though.”

“You’re bound to meet him eventually,” Mr Boyd said.

It took a second for the gravity of that sentence to sink in. He blinked big eyes at them. “Does that mean I get the job?” he asked.

This weird, nigh on predatory grin started to grow across Ms Reyes’s face. Mr Boyd glanced at her and sighed, getting up and leaving the frame. “They’re gonna eat you right up,” she told Stiles, winking. “We’ll send you the information to your account in a little bit. You’ll need to make a handle and new password once you get in. Then you’ll be directed to your profile. The more info and pictures the better. Glad to have you on board, Stiles.”

Stiles blushed, smiling at her as she waved before the channel went black. Welp, okay, this wasn’t a joke anymore, he guessed.

* * *

It only took about a half an hour to get an email with all the login info he would need to set up an account for the site. He got in and went to make a new handle, but then his whole brain screeched to a halt. _BadassBlue_ probably wouldn’t work for this, would it?

Shit.

Stiles looked around his room for inspiration. Let’s see. He had an embarrassing amount of Funko Pops! on his dresser, but he didn’t find anything among them that screamed cam boy. His eyes skimmed over his walls. He was pretty sure the names of the bands he liked wouldn’t be fitting even in the slightest. His gaze rolled over his Halo 4 poster and to his framed lacrosse jersey. He was about to move on, but then he stopped. 

There was something there. But what? His brain cycled through some combinations. He covered his face when it landed on _RedHalo_ and he shook his head as fast as he could, mumbling, “No no no no!” He begged his brain to move on, and finally it came up with something.

_HaloCrosse._

He sat back and thought about it, but he only allowed himself to do that for a second, because if he did for much longer he knew he would just think of reasons to hate it. He put in the handle and a new password--which was basically the password he used for everything--and then moved on to make a profile.

Seeing his touched-up photo at the top made him feel a little weird. He didn’t really look like that, not without a little lip gloss and good lighting, he bet, but then he doubted SweetPrince looked like a damn Adonis without a little work either. So there.

Filling out the profile was basically like making a page for a dating site, especially much more probing.

 **Eye Color:** Brown

 **Hair Color:** Brown

 **Height:** 5’10”

**Weight:**

He tapped his keyboard lightly and wondered if he differed from the last time he was weighed. He had no idea, but Easter happened since, and he had put down a box of 48 Cadbury eggs in a few days. Eh, it probably wasn’t noticeable.

 **Weight:** 147lbs

 **Favorite Hobby:** Gaming

 **Second Favorite Hobby:** Reading 

**Education Level:** I am a sophomore at Berkeley.

 **Immediate Goal In Life:** I really want to finish school with a good GPA and get a good job doing what I love. But more immediate than that, I want to make a little extra scratch so I can actually enjoy my college life. Not party every night or anything like that, but maybe eat food that’s not cafeteria quality or just ramen. 

**Ultimate Goal In Life:** Wow, what a question! I would have to say the thing I want most in life is to be about to take care of my dad--my biological dad, not what you’re thinking. :P He has always worked a lot to support both himself and me since my mom passed away, and I just want to return the favor. I want to get a good job with good pay so he can retire and live the life. Well, as much as he can when he’s restricted to only health food, haha.

**Are you a virgin?:**

Well, that was a brick wall flying outta nowhere if there ever was one. Stiles dropped his hands into his lap. How did one answer that question? _Virginity is a social construct!_ That probably wouldn’t impress anyone. 

If he was being honest with himself, he felt like a virgin. All he had really done was some heavy petting with a few girls and received a mutual handjob from a dude under some bleachers, because he was a total cliché. But he probably wanked enough for a whole lacrosse team. He didn’t really like talking about his sexual experience, because he was afraid of getting teased.

Though he could understand the point of Daddies wanting to know. He needed to advertise himself like a salesman. The more appealing, the better.

 **Are you a virgin?:** Yes.

After the rest of the profile blanks were filled, all he had left was the option to add a Amazon Wishlist link. So off to Amazon he went. He already had one wishlist, but it was one he’d been adding to absently for years, and he was pretty sure he didn’t want half that crap anymore or some of it wasn’t even available.

He had said his hobby was gaming, so we went ahead and added some games to his list. Mostly digital downloads, but he wasn’t opposed to some collector’s editions that came with action figures. Of course he could always do with some Microsoft Points, Steam cards and Nintendo eShop cards. Also he had an eye on a new gamepad for his computer.

As he was looking through skins for a gamepad, he spotted one with a Superman theme and decided he needed some Superhero merch, so down that rabbit hole he went. He picked out about a hundred Funko related items, matching Sinestro and Hal Jordan figures (because he was pretty sure he could make them kiss), a Spider-Man hoodie and some knee-high Flash/Reverse Flash socks.

He added the link to his profile and realized with was two in the morning, so he had a class in six hours and he hated himself and everything all of the sudden.

* * *

On the night of his first cam session, he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to look. Was he supposed to look cute and sweet or dirty and sexy? He couldn’t really _do_ dirty, since he had little to no experience. So he went with a pair of sleep pants for a start, black with Deadpool masks all over them. He also had on his cleanest tank top, which was one he’d never actually worn. When he put it on, he noticed it was a razorback and showed his tummy just a little bit. He might have picked this out of the ladies clearance accidentally. He hadn’t really looked at it. He had just spotted that the price was a dollar and nabbed it. Oh well. It more or less fit.

He styled his hair in a way that looked like he hadn’t styled it at all. Carefree took a bit of work. He washed and moisturized his face, after taking five minutes to find the moisturizer Lydia had given him ages ago. Then he put on a little lip balm. It had just a touch of color to it.

Staring at his reflection in the mirror, he let out a trill of a giggle. “Lydia would lose her mind,” he said, and decided that was a good thing.

Bouncing onto his bed, he pulled his laptop over and checked the time. It was about five minutes before he went live, so she logged into his account and opened up his channel. He took a moment to familiarize himself with all the buttons and stuff. There was a ping, and he looked over to find someone else in the channel.

Moderator: Mr Boyd

Stiles smiled and waved, before he felt incredibly stupid because he hadn’t turned on the cam yet. He did that and watched the numbers flash at the bottom.

Countdown to channel going live…

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…

Stiles it lucky that there is no one but Mr Boyd in the channel when the webcam comes on, because he is making such an owlish face he could sell it as a SnapChat filter. He tries to chill out, watching his face in the small window at the bottom until he humanized his features.

The next ping that signaled someone coming in had him opening his mouth to say hi, but he was gone before Stiles even read his username. Stiles’s face dropped into a pout, before he told himself not to be discouraged. Maybe that daddy was just window shopping.

But then it kept happening. Names blurred in and out of the channel for five minutes or so, and Stiles sighed to himself, having serious doubts. He knew he was kind of weird looking with his almost gaunt face, upturned piggy nose and big eyes, but he’d been called cute a few times. He had to be someone’s taste.

Rational response to being ignored? Play Pokémon on his 3DS while stuffing Poptart cold pieces into his face. He’s lying on his stomach, feet swaying in the air when he hears a new kind of _bing!_ in the channel. He looked over, food in his mouth, and saw someone actually said something.

TheDuke: Are you enjoying your game?

Stiles made a squeaky little _mm!_ , before he swallowed and turned, to crawl closer to his laptop. “Uh, hi,” he said with a laugh, unsure what the etiquette for this was. “Yeah, it’s Pokémon, so always a crowd pleaser.”

Wait, should he be typing instead of talking? Shit.

TheDuke: I’ve noticed the craze.

“Yeah, um…” Stiles looked down, not sure what to say and almost positive that this guy was going to leave. But he looked up when the laptop binged again.

TheDuke: You don’t have to be nervous.

Stiles felt heat on his cheeks. “You’re the first that has stayed. I’m not really sure what I should do to… please a… Daddy.” His face went even hotter.

TheDuke: New to the lifestyle, I take it?

Stiles shrugged a shoulder. “New to pretty much everything.”

TheDuke: Really?

Nodding, Stiles shifted so he was leaning his cheek on his hand. “Yeah. I mean, no guy wants to be single and have like no experience in--” He flicked his eyes around. “--anything. But that’s how it worked out for me.”

TheDuke: I can’t decide if that’s a tragedy or a blessing.

Stiles just sighed a little.

TheDuke: You are really very cute.

Stiles blinked upon reading this. “You think so?”

TheDuke: Your nose is simply precious.

Stile, in turn, hid his face in the crook of his arm and giggled like a lunatic. “You are the first person to ever say that to me,” he said finally, grinning ear to ear.

TheDuke: Now that is definitely a tragedy.

Stiles bit his lip, trying to control his smile, before he looked up at his token counter went up by fifteen. He blinked, uncomprehending for a second, before he looked at the camera. “Hey, thanks!”

TheDuke: It what we’re here for.

TheDuke: Tell me what you like to do for fun.

“I like to consume entertainment media like it sustains me,” Stiles said honestly, dragging his 3DS over and showing him the double screens where his character was standing in tall grass. He turned it back toward him and navigated to the save screen as he spoke. “I was pretty much raised by TV and video games.”

TheDuke: Busy parents?

“Busy par _ent_ ,” Stiles amended. “My dad did his best, and I love him, but he was at the station more than he was at home.” He turned off his 3DS and folded his arms, dropping his chin on them as he swung his feet in the air. “I was a latchkey kid. And you don’t really want to hear this right? It’s not attractive.”

TheDuke: I imagine you’d have to try very hard not to be attractive.

Stiles downright tittered at that, hiding his face again. This was weird. He had never had this kind of attention focused on him before. He found that he liked it.

TheDuke: What about reading?

“I love to read!” Stiles said, lighting up immediately. “Not just comic books either, though I do eat those up like crazy.” He started babbling about the types of books he liked, and as he did so he realized her had a pretty big range of literary interests. 

“I will admit that I have read vampire romance novels.” Stiles lips pulled at the corners in shame, and he resembled a frog for a second.

There were three more people in the channel now. Their handles were DashingSir, TigerBear and SilverPapa. None of them had said anything yet.

TheDuke: We all have our guilty pleasures.

“I tried to read the Twilight novels, buuuut I hated them and I thinking the attempt might have hurt my brain cells irreparably.” Stiles looked over as his token counter went up by fifty, and he giggled. “Okay, you guys must have loved me talking shit about those disasters.”

DashingSir: I don’t like it when my boys curse.

And he was gone.

“Oh,” Stiles said, covering his mouth and looking guilty. 

TheDuke: Don’t worry about him.

SilverPapa: You can’t please everyone.

Stiles dragged his fingers off his lips, still frowning. “Okay.”

TheDuke: Have you read any of the Discworld series?

Shaking his head, Stiles tried and failed to imagine what that series would be about. “No, what is it?”

TheDuke: Incredibly difficult to explain in few words.

SilverPapa: There’s a wiki.

TheDuke: I don’t know what that means.

Stiles chuckled. “I’ll check it out when the session is over.” He glanced at the clock. That was in ten minutes. He wasn’t even anywhere near his $500, but that was okay. These guys were nice.

TheDuke: Do. If you find you are interested, add a book or two to your wishlist, and I will gladly buy them for you.

Stiles bit his lip again, before he nodded. “Okay, that sounds great.”

In the last minute of his session, Stiles was ready to say goodnight to all three of the Daddies watching him, and his token count was at 82. It wasn’t bad, certainly more money he’d ever made in an hour.

“I’ll be back on tomorrow night,” he told him.

SilverPapa: I’ll be here.

TheDuke: As will I.

No word from TigerBear, who just left.

Stiles just smiled at the other two men, hoping they found him worth it. “Goodnight then!” He closed the connection and carefully moved his laptop over to his desk. Then, overcome with giggles and delight, threw himself onto the bed and kicked his feet while squealing.

He liked this. He really liked having all this attention. He knew that all of three men wasn’t a lot, but it was so much more than he was used to. He buried his face into his pillow and gave a heartfelt sigh. Those two said they would be back. He was well on his way to having a loyal Daddy!

And that was so incredibly weird!

But he liked it, which was confusing.

He let out a weird yell into his pillow, before he rolled onto his back. He needed to stop overthinking it. He had been told, time and time again, that over thinking would be his downfall. Letting out a determined breath that kind of sounded like a snort, he grabbed his phone and started to research Discworld.

He ended up adding three of the forty-one novels to his wishlist, along with Nation and Good Omens, before he burrowed under his covers and went to sleep.

He dreamt about someone calling him ‘baby’ but couldn’t remember if he was into it when he woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "But Cin!" you cry. "You have so many other unfinished works!"
> 
> i know shut up
> 
> I'm hoping since I got at least this chapter out of my head, I'll be able to write other stuff and wrap up my other works, but no promises, because I am garbage! Let me know what you think of this though!
> 
> -melts out of chair- my teeth hurt, i'mma go take pills and sleep. I have a dentist appointment tomorrow. Boo.


	2. Chapter 2

If there was one thing Stiles knew he was good at, it was research. So it was time for him to research Daddykink. To better please his patrons, of course. His cuteness would only get him so far. The moment he reacted incorrectly, he’d lose Daddies like crazy. He wanted to understand the paradigm and what made it so appealing.

His research took him down a multitude of avenues. He looked up things on his computer when he was at home and on his phone when he was out. Among all the websites he was on, there were some things he’d managed gather. And of all these things, one theme stood out.

Symbiosis. 

Stiles had thought it was about the Daddy controlling the baby boy or the baby boy doing everything to make the Daddy happy. He felt almost lied to, because like all relationships, it didn't have to be unhealthy. Some people like taking care of others and some people wanted to be taken care of. What extreme was up to the people.

At one of Lydia’s study sessions, his phone was snatched out of his hand and he squawked out a “What the hell!” and tried to grab it back.

“You didn't hear me calling your name a million times, did you?” Lydia asked, holding the phone out if Stiles’s reach.

Stiles blinked at her and looked around, realizing everyone else was gone. “Oh.”

“What were you even looking at?” Lydia asked, sliding her thumb across the face if the phone and dodging Stiles’s attempts to grab at it. Her brows went up. She tapped and swiped some more. “Okay, you have about twenty-five tabs open and the majority are about Daddykink.” She looked at Stiles. “Explain.”

“Uuuuuuuh--” Stiles kept holding out the noise, hopefully it would be enough stalling so he could think up a good lie. But one was not coming to him, and he was running out of oxygen. “Because?” he squeaked.

Lydia just stared at him. “Yeah, that was just a chance to get you to come clean.” She held up his phone. “Two of your tabs are about the best lighting and staging for a webcam show.” She offered him his phone, and he grabbed it. “Are you thinking about becoming a cam boy on a Daddykink site?”

Stiles fiddled with his phone. “I might have already done that?” He looked up at Lydia and tried to make his eyes innocent and Bambi-like. “I’ve done two shows.”

Lydia slowly sat down, eyes growing steadily wider. “Oh. Okay.”

“I made like two hundred bucks?” Because Stiles was incapable of handling silence, be started to babble when Lydia didn’t say anything else. “It’s not like I had an intention of signing up when I found the website. It’s not my fault the website is named Best Boy and I wasn’t paying attention when I was typing. I wanted a DLC, Lydia, a DLC, I swear.” 

He sucked in a bit of oxygen and barreled forward. “But then I was looking at the membership page, because I am just morbidly curious about literally everything. And I saw this link for becoming a baby boy on cam, hosted by the website, and I just thought it couldn’t hurt to look, right? I mean, pff, no biggie. And so it was basically like any job app, and ohmigawd, Lyds, the money I could make--have made--and all just because--I--I talk to these guys. All I do is talk…” He finally allowed himself to breathe again, looking at her with wild eyes.

“You just… talk?” Lydia asked after a moment of her face taking on that look when she was processing--categorizing--prioritizing her thoughts. “You don’t… like…” She made a gesture that meant nothing, but Stiles understood.

“Everything you’re thinking, no,” he told her, before he dropped his face in his hand. “And that’s part of the problem.”

Lydia tipped her head to the side a little. “Talking… isn’t enough. You’re afraid they’re going to get bored with you?”

“This is why you’re the smartest person I know,” Stiles said with a loud sigh, before he looked at his phone. “I’ve been researching for two days. I don’t know what I can do to spice things up without going beyond my comfort level.”

Lydia slid her eyes to the side, then up, then back to Stiles’s face. “Okay, this may come as a total surprise to you, but have you tried asking?”

Stiles gave a big, daft blink.

Lydia rolled her eyes in a long, exaggerated way, much like Stiles did when he was praying for patience. “Oh my god, _boys,_ ” she said with a heavy sigh.

* * *

**TheDuke:** So how do you like it?

Stiles tipped his head to the side, smiling at his camera. “I think you know by now.”

 **TheDuke:** Tell me. :)

“Ohmigawd, I read _The Color of Magic_ and _The Light Fantastic_ one after the other, and I loved them. I decided to give _Mort_ a try.” He lifted the used paperback and wiggled it. “And it’s amazing so far. I definitely identify with a gangly boy who is described as being ‘built out of knees’. I never quite grew into my limbs either.”

There was a chorus of ‘you’re beautiful’ and ‘your body is wonderful’ and ‘don’t talk about yourself like that’ from his eight channel viewers, and he could feel his nose scrunching up as grinned and he basked in the praise. So maybe he had been fishing a little, but these guys practically fell over themselves to compliment him.

It was selfish, fun, and he wondered if all the other baby boys were as addicted to this as he was.

“But seriously, thanks a lot for the book rec,” he said, rubbing his thumb over the spine of the book. 

**TheDuke:** Of course. But I will selfishly admit that I wanted you to enjoy it so we could have something in common.

Tipping his head to one side, Stiles ran his lip through his teeth. “Well, what else do you want me to do?” He stretched his arms over his head, feeling a bit of tightness between his shoulder blades from carrying that heavy backpack. “What do you guys think would spice up this channel a little?”

_Several people are typing…_

**BigPaw:** i thin kyou should get naked

 **Padre9in:** shit 

**Howl4Me:** You beat me to it!

 **BigPaw:** haha never typed somethin so fast in my life

Stiles snorted, dropping his face into his hands and shaking his head. “Okay,” he said, smiling as he straightened up again. “Now that everyone has that out of their system, how about some real suggestions?”

 **CasanovaSir:** How about you dance for us?

 **Padre9in:** yes

 **BigPaw:** that sounds awesome

“Oh, no,” Stiles said, shaking his head. “No, no. I promise you do not want to see that.”

 **TheDuke:** I do.

 **TigerBear:** Yeah.

Stiles kept shaking his head, giggles pouring out of him. "No, really, that would be a total disaster. I'm not saying that like I don't shake it like a Polaroid picture at parties. I just know it's not pretty."

 **CasanovaSir:** But I would love to see anyway!

Stiles actually stuck his tongue out. "Hey, you guys are putting me on the spot! I don't have a place to dance. I'm a bad boy, and my room is a hazard." He smiled as his token counter went up. "New suggestion, please, good sirs."

 **Howl4Me:** How about you sing then?

Stiles glanced at his door, before he leaned in close to the laptop. "Okay, I like to sing, but I’m not very good at it. I’m gonna have to find the perfect song for you guys, and that will take me forever, ‘cause I’m kind of obsessive like that.” He smiled as a few more tokens came in. “Who has another brilliant idea?”

 **Padre9in:** what do you like doing

Stiles thought about it, his brain temporarily flashing _404 Response Not Found_ before he got it into gear. “Uh, video games.” He squinted at the ceiling a second. “Napping to avoid my responsibilities.” He looked back at the computer and shrugged. “Stuffing my face?” He was a creature of simple pleasures.

 **Howl4Me:** Can I see you eat?

Stiles gave a little snort. What could they possibly get out of that? “Eat what?” 

**BigPaw:** banana!

 **CasanovaSir:** Pickle!

 **Howl4Me:** Hot dog!

Laughter bubbled out of Stiles, and he covered his face as he shook his head. “You buncha perves, I swear.” He looked through his fingers at another message ping.

 **SilverPapa:** How about ice cream?

 **TheDuke:** Excellent suggestion.

Stiles sighed heavily as all the other Daddies gave their approval very earnestly. “Looks like I need to go shopping,” he said with a fond smile.

* * *

Stiles had a list. Sort of. Honestly it was just three things: ice cream to look sexy eating, clothing to look sexy in, and real people food. While he was great at helping Scott with his executive dysfunction, Stiles never claimed to be any good at taking care of himself.

That was why he brought Lydia along.

And because she was the only one who knew his _big secret_ so he wanted to keep her around to babble at. Though right now the cart was full of stuff for her and nothing for him. He watched her look at a cute little t-shirt with Poison Ivy on it. It looked too small for her, but she had told him that clothes made for ladies were very deceptive in their sizing.

Finally, she tossed it into the basket with three other shirts she liked. Then she picked up a little shirt with string sleeves from a pile marked 'camis: $2.' She turned and held it out to him.

He stared at her, brows inching together. "What?"

"I think this would appeal to your customers," she told him with a decisive smirk.

He squinted at the slightly shimmery piece of cloth and took it, holding it up to his chest. "Lyds, this covers like nothing at all. I might as well be shirtless." He had a _rule_ dammit.

"No, no," she insisted, smoothing it over his front. "It shows lots of shoulder and a bit of your tummy while hiding your tits. That's perfect."

Stiles hoped his blink was unimpressed and not a bit startled. He probably failed. "Did you just call my pecs _tits?_ " he asked in a scandalized whisper.

She nodded, taking the cami and flinging it into the basket. "Yup," she said, flinging her hair and popping the P. "Get used to it, camboy.”

Stiles didn't know what to do, so he just grabbed more of the slinky camis and put them in his basket. "Been researching, have you?" he asked, pushing the cart after her. "You know that's my thing, right?"

"Perhaps, but you're terribly bad at it," Lydia informed him, and he was about to take offense, but she turned to look at him. "I'm sure you've been to plenty of websites explaining the culture of Daddykink, but you get all embarrassed when there is a detail out of your comfort zone, correct?"

Pulling his lips to the side, Stiles rubbed his palms on the handle of the buggy. "Well... Maybe, but..."

"You're looking at this the wrong way." She set her hand on the basket and gave him a look that made her appear much taller than the 5'3"-on-a-good-day she was. "It's business, right? You're in it for the money. Then you have to know what makes these guys tick, what will make them give you their tokens or whatever." She waved a hand, before she shrugged a shoulder. "And if, maybe, someday you realize this isn't just for money, then you'll know where you stand and what your limits really are."

Stiles rolled his lips into his mouth and bit them a second, letting out a loud sigh through his nose. "Stop being all logical and shit."

"It's what I do, sweetie," she all but sang to him with a roll of her hazel eyes.

"Uh huh," he said, pushing the cart after her.

A few minutes later when Stiles was trying to talk himself out of buying Batman knee-high socks that had _capes,_ Lydia tugged his sleeve. He looked at her, and she was staring at her phone, puzzlement on her pretty face. He made a vague noise of query at her.

"What even is this?" she asked, showing him her phone. It was a blown up image of the symbol that was at the bottom of all the pages on www.BestBoy.com: a black square with a white cut-out of a paw, claw points and everything.

He stared then just shrugged, dragging the Batman socks into the basket. "Honestly, I don't know for sure. I never asked. I thought it probably just meant that the site was bear friends or something." He thought about it a second. "Bears like small guys, right?"

"Probably varies bear to bear," Lydia said, looking at the image again. They started walking, and they were eventually going to get to the food side of the supermarket. "The thing is I thought it was probably for bears at first too? But then I looked up the pride flag for bears, and it's not anything like this. Also, bear paws are wider and have five toes. This is a lot slimmer, and only has four, longer toes. It's more like a dog, or a wolf."

"Maybe Daddies like doggos?" Stiles suggested.

"I'm not sure. I looked it up and couldn't find any correlation." Lydia shrugged, dropping her phone down by her thigh. "I could probably figure it out if I broadened my search perimeters." 

"Probably," Stiles agreed lightly, before he was immediately distracted by a Spider-Man hoodies with _earbuds in the hood holy shit._

"Okay," Stiles said when they were in the ice cream aisle and he was trying to decide if he needed all those cheesecake batter core Ben & Jerry's pints. "What flavor of ice cream should I get to eat all sexy on camera?" He pulled out a mint chocolate chip and hummed.

"Vanilla," Lydia told him, bland-faced and serious.

Stiles squinted at her. "Why?"

She lifted a perfectly sculpted brow at him. "Think about it."

Admittedly it took him a second, and he put on a horrified face. "Oh girl, you nasty," he complained, grabbing a vanilla half gallon anyway. He could top it with a ridiculous amount of stuff when he wasn't eating it on cam.

"Don't forget the cones," Lydia sighed at him as they were leaving the aisle.

He grabbed some waffle cones off the end display with a huff.

* * *

So, Stiles liked ice cream, and he had to force himself not to eat the whole container of it once he got home. It helped that it was vanilla, and he didn't actually like vanilla that much. It /also/ helped that he apparently didn't own a damn ice cream scoop, so shit. He unpacked the waffle cones, and had a moment of what-do, before he found a big spoon and packed the ice cream into the cone. By the time he got the cone filled respectably, it was looking suspiciously wet.

"No, no, bad, not yet, not yet," he told it, booking it to his room and opening his laptop one-handed. "I did not think this through properly." He typed in his log-in info one-handed, misspelled his password and had to try again. It was time to start the session by the time he got to his channel page.

After a quick glance around and getting his shoes and shoes off, he held his ice cream cone out of the view of the camera as his channel went live. "Hello, everyone." He leaned in a bit a looked at all the names, actually having to /scroll down/ a little to see them all. "Well, I see some familiar names and some other names that are new. Hi!"

 **TheDuke:** Hello, Halo, what are you hiding over there?

"Moi?" Stiles said, blinking his lashes at the screen and setting a hand on his chest. "Hiding? Never." He looked over and faked surprise, his mouth in a pouty 'o'. He pulled the ice cream cone into view. "Oh, you mean this?"

 **Padre9in:** jesus you really did get ice cream

 **BigPaw:** hell yeah

 **TigerBear:** You going to eat that or let it melt all over your fingers?

 **Howl4Me:** Don’t be bad and waste it.

Stiles grinned, tipping his chin up a little. "I'm gonna eat it nice and slow." He managed not to giggle ridiculously when a few tokens came in just for that, and he focused on the ice cream cone. It was weird trying to be alluring while dragging his tongue slowly across the top of the cone. He wondered if this was what women in over-sexualized product commercials felt like.

But still, he could hear the tokens slowly rolling in, so he must have been doing something right. It wasn't like it was a chore to eat ice cream, honestly, but it was difficult to eat it slowly. He turned his eyes toward the camera, making sure to keep his eyelids low--Lydia had told him that was a thing--and he felt a droplet of cold slide down his thumb.

"Oops," he said sweetly, licking it up and accidentally tipping the cone the other direction. "Oh crap." Now ice cream was oozing down his fingers. "Wait, wait." He licked at his hand to the sound of tokens coming in. "Hang on, time out." He was losing control of his own food, because it was escaping in all directions. "Christ in a hammock--ah!"

The wet cone broke under his fingers, and he squeaked before diving in and trying to get it all in his mouth at the same time. He didn't succeed, for it was a fool's errand. He ended up with a broken cone in his hand and cold wetness all over his lips and chin, slowly trekking down his neck. He looked at the camera, owl-eyed and open-mouthed.

The tokens came in like a flash flood.

"Okay,” he began, licking his lips and swallowing, “I tried, therefore no one can criticize me.”

 **TheDuke:** That was wonderful, Halo.

 **Padre9in:** who doesnt love a facial?

 **BigPaw:** lol

 _Oh my god,_ Stiles mouthed at them.

 **TigerBear:** Better than I expected it to go.

 **SilverPapa:** You are adorable.

 **CasanovaSir:** So what if it was a little… premature?

 **BigPaw:** LOL

Stiles had to wonder what thing he had done to deserve this. Maybe this was punishment for shaving off Scott's eyebrows when they were in high school. He frowned at his audience. "You guys are not funny, and I hope you are happy, because I have ice cream on my shirt!" Those last few words were definitely a whine, and he picked at his sticky, wet collar.

 **BigPaw:** guess you'll have to take it off

Stiles rolled his eyes in the most exaggerated way he could, holding his mushy ice cream cone burdened hand up away from the covers. "You are right. I will have to take it off." He started to slide off the bed. "But not with you perverts watching." He headed toward the bathroom, smiling to himself as he heard pings of the Daddies no doubt complaining about him moving out of sight.

He took his time, scraping the cone off his skin into the trash and washing his hands and face. He left the top end of his shirt in the sink to soak, before he went to put on a new shirt. He paused, thinking a second, before he went into the living room to where some bags from his grocery trip were still on the counter.

When he got back to his room, he stopped next to the bed and leaned over to poke his head into view. "Okay, so, ice cream is not all I got when I went to the store." He climbed onto the bed, wearing a pair of boxers and one of the cami top. He picked at the string sleeve self-consciously. "My friend thought you guys might appreciate a little skin."

He felt his cheeks go hot as more tokens come in. If Lydia knew, she'd never let it go, and he also knew that she would know just by the expression he made next time he saw her.

"I'm not eating ice cream for you guys again," Stiles said, perfectly petty as he stuck his nose in the air. "Not if this is the thanks I get." He sniffed, scrunching up his face. "Next time I'll just shovel instant noodles into my face and watch Netflix while pretending you aren't even there."

 **Howl4Me:** Don't do that!

 **BigPaw:** thats mean

Stiles just gave his head a shake. "You deserve it for making fun of me. After I was trying to do something nice too."

 **TheDuke:** What can be done to make it up to you, sweetheart?

Sweetheart? Stiles swallowed and fought his too large smile. "Dunno," he said, testing the idea of bargaining with these men in his head. "I mean, you already pretty much fund everything I do."

 **TheDuke:** Is that so?

Stiles nodded, lifting and dropping his shoulders. "I'm a college student, and in order to keep my scholarship, I have to work a full load and keep my GPA at least a 3.0. So I don't work, which means I have an allowance for rent and food." He waved a hand. "Hence the instant noodles." He shifted and got his legs folded under him. "But they're not so bad with a heavy dose of sriracha."

 **TigerBear:** I don't have time for this.

Stiles rolled his eyes as the guy left his channel. Again. He always did that, and he always came back. "Anywho," he went on. "I'm trying to figure out what kind of food I could buy now, but I don't really know what to start." He pushed his lips out and slid his eyes back to the screen. "Suggestions?"

The Daddies seemed to like that, because they were very vocal about what Stiles could and should eat. Stiles had to laugh as he leaned over and got a notepad, flipping to a blank page and starting to write everything down.

"One at a time, one at a time," he told them, giggling.

* * *

It was grocery shopping time again, and Scott made the smallest noise that he was free, so Stiles latched onto him and dragged him to the store. He didn't like shopping alone, because he was easily distracted and would buy a lot of things he desperately didn't need and forget everything he did. But with Scott here as a buffer to over-stimulation, he could stay focused.

He had a list and everything. 

That seemed to be the first thing that made Scott suspicious. Stiles was usually the type to roll through the aisles and just grab stuff, and if he didn't spin the buggy in a circle then it wasn't a successful trip, but now he was stopping and consider his options. 

"Since when do you look at the ingredient boxes on stuff?" Scott asked when they were in the aisle with soup and boxed meals.

Stiles looked up from reading the sodium content on a box of beef broth. SilverPapa had suggested low sodium, because too much salt caused dehydration, and that coupled with the Monsters he had admitted he pounded back like crazy, could be why he was increasingly exhausted. He was always exhausted. "Uh, I'm just trying new things," he said, putting the low sodium option in the cart. 

He was going to make an easy stew with cheap ingredients. Apparently it was as simple as chopping stuff up and putting it in a pot. And he could make enough for dinner for a few days. All SilverPapa's suggestions again, because the man seemed to understand he was in college and just supremely in love with not doing shit.

Scott just squinted at him, holding a multi-box of mac and cheese like he was too puzzled with Stiles and forgot to put it down. "Does this have anything to do with that new thing you're doing?"

"What?" Stiles asked, a little too loud, and almost dropped the three cans of diced tomatoes he'd gathered to his chest.

Scott had that look now, the one he got when he was worried. It didn't help that he had neglected to cut his hair, so he looked like an adorable, shaggy puppy. "It does, doesn't it? Lydia said it was kind of taking over your life."

Never so outraged in his life, Stiles unceremoniously dumped the cans in the basket. "She seriously told you I'm a camboy? God, of all the people not to have control over her own damn mouth, it'd be Lydia."

That seemed to just confuse Scott. "What?"

Stiles stared, eyes going a little big. "What?" he parroted.

Scott approached, almost missing the basket when dropped the box of Pop-Tarts inside. "You're a camboy now?"

Shit. Stiles flicked his eyes around for assistance, possibly in the floor of a ceiling tentacle taking him away to slimy safety. "Uh," he tried, "You said that... Lydia told you."

Moving his head in some strange mix of a nod and a shake, Scott pulled his brows together. "Yeah, she said you had a freelancing job that was taking over your life. I thought she meant, like, editing papers or something. Like you did for extra scratch in senior year."

"Oh." Stiles looked down, gripping the wire side of the basket.

"Should we pretend this never came up?" Scott asked, and Stiles looked at him, finding him painfully earnest, as if he would lobotomize himself to keep Stiles's secret safe.

Stiles laughed a little, dragging his hand down his face. "Nah, it's cool. We can talk about it. I mean, it's not even a big deal." He nodded, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, I'm a camboy."

"Oh," Scott said.

"I'm not like--I don't do amateur porn or anything. I just... talk. And the guys listen."

"Oh," Scott said again, light and understanding.

Stiles tapped his fingers on the buggy. “Older… guys.”

_“Oh.”_

Stiles was uncomfortable with the fact that sounded like an entirely different word. He chewed his lip a little, feeling the burning urge to defend himself. “I know it’s weird, but most of the guys that come in my channel are really nice. They listen to be talk about myself. They buy me things. They pay me to do next to nothing.”

He didn’t really register that Scott was coming closer, holding out a hand, just kept on going. “And yeah, so what if they hit on me? They’re perverts, sure, but it is a site for Daddies, so it’s not like I didn’t know what I was getting into. It’s kind of nice getting all that attention. It’s not like anyone around here ever--” He stopped when Scott’s hand landed on his arm, blinking burning eyes.

“Bro, you know I support you, right?” Scott asked, squeezing his arm. “No matter what, I’m here for you. I’m not gonna tell you that you shouldn’t do something, ‘cause I know you can handle yourself.” He gave Stiles a soft smile. ”And, if you want to complain about some old dude getting under your skin, I’m here for you.”

Stiles laughed, shaking off the worried tension closed around his spine and shoulders. “You really gonna make me hug you in the middle of freaking Walmart, man?” he asked, barely keeping his voice from shaking.

Putting his arms out and wiggled his fingers. “Come at me, bro,” he said, grinning all lopsided.

Stiles laughed and fell into him, pawing at his shirt and holding him tight. This was why he had never let Scott go, not since they had met on the playground when they were eight, and Scott had helped him rebuild his sandcastle after a bully had kicked it in. Scott had even let him use his plastic shovel. True pal.

“God, you’re such a--I dunno, I would insult you if I didn’t love you,” Stiles said, pulling back and feeling infinitely better. Telling Scott things had always been the biggest step in coming to love parts of himself, and this was no different.

“We’ll say you insulted me then,” Scott said, as cuddly as a marshmallow puff. “In case anyone asks.”

“Thank you for thinking of my reputation.” Stiles rolled his eyes, going over and grabbing some pasta sauce off the shelf.

“You making spaghetti?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, grabbing the handle of the basket and swinging it around to leave the aisle.

“You forgot the pasta,” Scott said, going after him.

“I’m not using dry pasta,” Stiles informed him.

“Then what?”

“Zoodles.” Stiles grinned at the term, easily amused.

“That sounds like a brand of pool noodles.”

Stiles laughed. “It’s spiral noodles from veggies. I got a thing off Amazon. I’ll show it to you.”

“Fancy,” Scott said.

“Don’t let me forget the cheesecloth.”

* * *

It had been a long day, and Stiles was tired stepped out of the shower, scrubbed pink and feeling cleansed. He rubbed lazily at his hair with his towel, before he swiped his hand across the mirror. God, he was so ready to just pass out. Thankfully he had nothing to do that night.

He squinted at the mirror, feeling like he was forgetting something. He shook his head. No, it was Wednesday, so he didn't have a cam session planned. Still... He picked up his phone and hit the button to illuminate the screen. 

"Shit--!" It was Thursday, what the fuck! He turned, about to tear out of the bathroom and into his room. He managed to grab his boxers as an afterthought, stumbling into them and all but falling over to his bed. "Crap, crap, crap," he sang to himself, opening his computer and tapping the spacebar as it woke up. He was supposed to go live almost ten minutes ago.

He must have looked terribly surprised when the channel went live, sitting there with a towel over his wild, damp hair, skin still a bit blotchy from the hot water, eyes big from what he could see in the preview and--oh. "Haha, I'm not wearing a shirt!" he said, lamely covering his chest.

 **TheDuke:** Well, hello there.

 **SilverPapa:** Was worried you weren't going to come online for a minute there.

 **BigPaw:** i don't mind the no shirt

 **Howl4Me:** Why aren't you wearing a shirt? (I also don't mind.)

 **Padre9in:** i like it

Stiles covered his eyes and laughed as a few others made their opinions known, before he just dropped his arms. They had seen him now anyway. No point in hiding his _tits,_ as Lydia would call them. "I got my days mixed up. I just got out of the shower." He dragged the towel off his head and wiped at his face. "I'm a dummy."

 **TigerBear:** You're beautiful.

Stiles dropped the towel, chewing his lip. "Uh huh. You're only complimenting me because I don't have a shirt on." He didn't really like that guy, but he was pretty sure he at least spent a few tokens on his channel at some point.

 **TigerBear:** Maybe I like your mouth a bit too.

"Well, aren’t you sweet?" Stiles said, unable to stop smiling. He straightened up. "So you guys are the worst, because I have changed my diet, and I'm all healthy and shit now."

 **SilverPapa:** Did you try the stew?

Stiles laughed. “Yes, it’s my favorite thing in the world right now. I’m going to make a pizza with a cauliflower crust eventually like I’m creative or something.”

 **SilverPapa:** This is a bad thing?

"Not bad, exactly, but now I'm _cooking_ for myself like an adult. I feel all responsible and stuff." He sighed like that was the worst thing on earth.

 **BigPaw:** oh no how terrible

 **TheDuke:** It's too bad you don't have someone there to cook for you.

"Honestly, this apartment could not hold another person. Nobody stays the night because my couch is barely functional and my AC doesn't work very well." He realized he was chewing the skin on the side of his thumb and stopped, forcing his hand into his lap.

 **SilverPapa:** Have you talked to your super?

 **Howl4Me:** You have rights as a tenant.

Stiles waved his hands at the screen. "Mm, no, let's not talk about that right now." He knew he brought it up, but he still didn't want to think about it. He saw that people were typing and decided to interrupt them. "So I found a song I want to sing for you guys." He smiled as everyone stopped typing, and then they very enthusiastically started up again.

 **TheDuke:** Do tell!

 **Padre9in:** what song

 **CrystalProphet:** i wanna know too

 **BigPaw:** tell!!

 **SilverPapa:** Don't let us hang here, Halo.

Stiles grinned at them. "It is a very awesome song from the soundtrack of an incredibly shitty movie."

 **TigerBear:** That doesn't really narrow it down at all.

 **Padre9in:** there are lots of bad movies and lots of great soundtracks

 **TheDuke:** I have a feeling I'm going to regret knowing the answer.

 **BigPaw:** still wanna know

 **CrystalProphet:** the suspense is legit killing me over here

 **CasanovaSir:** Please put us out of our misery.

Stiles couldn't help his devious, delighted grinning. His cheeks were going to hurt later. "Have you guys seen _Fifty Shades of Grey?_ "

 **BigPaw:** oh god please no

 **CrystalProphet:** why you gotta bring up those memories?

 **TigerBear:** I don't remember. I had that part of my brain removed.

 **TheDuke:** That's rather mean, Halo.

 **SilverPapa:** I vomited a little in my mouth.

Stiles laughed louder and happier than he had a long time, hand over his eyes. He didn't even look when he heard the sound of tokens, too taken with his giggles to do so. When he did have control again, he wiped his eye with the palm of his hand, fanning his face a little. "Oh my god, you guys crack me up so hard." He blurted out another little giggle. "Okay, why, the movie was bad. The whole franchise is shit. But! But the soundtrack is banging, and I have it on my Spotify. I rock out to it all the time, especially when cooking."

He moved the laptop so he could adjust his legs underneath him, better for singing. "So, thank you, Duke, for your teriyaki steak recipe, because this song came on while I was making it, and I knew it was the one." He chewed his lip and waggled his finger at the camera. "You can't laugh. You asked for this, so you have no right to complain if I hurt your ears."

 **TigerBear:** I'll just mute you.

Stiles snorted, rolling his eyes. "Eat a dick. Okay, here goes."

Stiles grabbed his Bluetooth/mic speaker for better volume projection and found the song in his files. He'd found a karaoke version, because he was going all out. The music started and he looked at the screen. No one was typing. They either didn't know the song or were waiting on bated breath for him. He hoped it was both.

"You're the light, you're the night," he began, his voice shaking a little as he did. He was nervous, so nervous. He wanted to impress them. "You're the color of my blood. You're the cure, you're the pain. You're the only thing I wanna touch." He took in a quick breath. "Never knew it could mean so much. So much."

He closed his eyes and let the music wrap around him, hold him in safety. He was in control here. Completely. "You're the fear, I don't care, 'cause I've never been so high. Follow me to the dark. Let me take you past our satellites. You can see the world you brought to life. To life."

He smiled as he heard the ping of tokens coming in. His voice got stronger, bolder. "So love me like you do, la-la-love me like you do. Love me like you do, la-la-love me like you do. Touch me like you do, ta-ta-touch me like you do." He opened his eyes, staring straight into the camera. "What are you waiting for?"

As tokens came in again, he let go completely. He sang about letting someone else set the pace, his skin, how he couldn't be trust to think clearly. As he sang, touched his face, his hair, his chest, letting his mind soar as he came to know there was some truth to what he was singing. He wanted someone like that, someone to envelop him, to be his everything, to be someone's whole world in return.

Either he didn't take a big enough breath or he lost himself on the long note at the tail end of another "What are you waiting for?" because his voice cracked, breaking the rhythm completely. He didn't care though. He laughed wildly, one hand in his hair and the other on his neck, laughed until he ran out of air and sound.

He was pretty sure his eyes were watering as tokens flooded in, but he couldn't stop smiling. He dropped a hand to the bed to lean on, gasping at air and trying to remember how to function. "Jeez," he said with a snorting giggle. "That was intense."

 **SilverPapa:** That was wonderful, Halo.

 **TheDuke:** Truly exquisite.

 **Padre9in:** wow

 **BigPaw:** ditto

 **CasanovaSir:** Brilliant.

 **TigerBear:** I didn't even mute you.

That made Stiles crack up again, and he flipped off the screen as he flopped onto his side. His breathing was loud in the quiet wake of the music. He dragged the laptop over and tilted the screen down so they could see him better. "You guys can now say you've had me gasping," he said, unable to help himself.

 **TheDuke:** What a delight. I'd love to see it again.

Stiles shrugged a shoulder. "Who knows? I might find another song I like."

A bit later, he was saying goodnight to his Daddies and watching them leave the channel one by one. He was amazed at how many tokens he'd earned that night. He was even more amazed that he didn't feel the money was his greatest achievement. 

**TheDuke:** Have you thought about trying to make it to the front page?

Stiles lifted a brow at the question. "Think I can?"

 **TheDuke:** I do.

 **SilverPapa:** Same here.

Stiles rubbed his fingers through his crazy hair. "Don't I need loyal Daddies for that?"

 **TheDuke:** Have you checked your loyalty section lately?

"Huh?" Stiles didn't even know where that was.

 **SilverPapa:** You probably should.

After some experimental clicking, Stiles found the page and saw he had five loyal Daddies: TheDuke, SilverPapa, Howl4Me, CrystalProphet and TigerBear. He stared at the page, blinking, before he checked the button that allowed a notification to be sent to him when he got a new Loyal Daddy.

"Oh," he said, feeling stupid. "Alright then."

 **TheDuke:** Don't worry, Halo, I'll help you get to the front page.

 **SilverPapa:** Me too.

Stiles bit his lip, before he fell back, covering his face and kicking his legs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pbbt.
> 
> Expect Stiles to sing again. :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look who it is... :D

"Okay, these are by far my absolute favorite," Stiles said, pushing a little treat in front of the camera. It was a small biscuit stick topped with a chocolate cap. It was like pocky, but it was shaped like a tiny mushroom. "The chocolate to biscuit ratio is the best." He popped the little mushroom in his mouth, smiling in a pleased way.   
  
**CrystalProphet:** glad you like them   
  
Stiles gave the guy a smile as he chewed. "Thanks for suggesting them." He shrugged a little. "And buying them for me. You didn't have to do that."   
  
**CrystalProphet:** no prob babe   
  
Babe. Stiles bit his lips together, chuckling. "It's been a long time since someone called me that, y'know."   
  
**BigPaw:** do tell   
  
Stiles shook his head, setting his treats aside. "It's not an interesting story. It was my only ever boyfriend that called me that, but we didn't even last a year."   
  
**TigerBear:** Who broke up with whom?   
  
"I broke up with him. He turned out to be a jerk, and I had the convenient escape of going to college. So I ditched him and ran. Haven't talked to him since." He'd looked him up on Facebook once, and that was depressing, so he never did that again.   
  
**SilverPapa:** Why did you break up?   
  
Stiles heaved a sigh. "You sure you guys wanna know? It's not an interesting story."   
  
Ten of the fourteen Daddies in his channel informed him that yes, they wanted to know. They were very interested in everything Stiles did and this was a sensation that Stiles had yet to get used to.   
  
Stiles blew a breath between his lips. "Okay, well, dude's name was Matt. I had known of him since like middle school? Small town, so everyone knows everyone else. Anyway. We got together at the end of junior year, so I was seventeen." He shook his head. "The short of it was that he wanted to have sex, and I didn't." His brows came together. "I don't think I even felt comfortable with him, to be honest? He was always kind of..." He waved his hand vaguely. "Intense. But not in a fun way."

**TheDuke:** What did he do?

Taking in a deep breath and letting it out in a bone deep sigh, Stiles gave the camera a half smile. "He cheated on me."

**BigPaw:** WHAT

**Howl4Me:** That worthless bastard.

**SilverPapa:** Worthless and blind.

**TheDuke:** He obviously didn't know what he had.

**TigerBear:** Well, I hope you killed him.

Stiles chuckled a little, before he shook his head. "Nah, didn't kill him. Sheriff for a dad and all that. No. I mean, I wanted to kill him. The moment I found out, I was gonna call his ass up and rip him apart, but..." He tipped his head and licked his lips.

**CrystalProphet:** but?

"I'm a bit of a devious soul," Stiles admitted, giving them a smile, before he sat up. "Instead of pushing his non-swimming ass in a pool, I pretended like I didn't know. My eighteenth birthday was coming up, and I told him that I wanted to get couple's tattoos of each other's names. Y'know, to signify our undying love."

**Howl4Me:** Oh no.

"I'm pretty sure he thought he was gonna get lucky afterward. Who doesn't want to bang a virgin, right?" He scratched his neck. "So, we went to the parlor. I pretended I was scared. He went first." He put his nose in the air. "I went home."

The sound of the tokens coming in was like music to his ears.

He laughed loudly. "Sometimes I think about him wearing my damn name on his lower back and laugh. People think I'm crazy."

**SilverPapa:** He got a tramp stamp?

**BigPaw:** fucko deserved it

**TigerBear:** The more I learn about you, the more I like you, Halo.

Stiles grinned at the camera. "Yeah well, nobody crosses this guy--" He made a circle with his fingertip around his face. "--and gets away unscathed. I just cry about it for two days first." He flicked his eyes away.

**BigPaw:** poor baby

**TigerBear:** I would hold you and make it better.

Stiles shook his head, smiling all the same. “Nah, guys, it’s fine. I’m over it. It’s been a long time. I’m wiser for it.” Wiser, and possibly too cautious, which explained why he hadn’t had another relationship since. 

That would change someday.

 

* * *

As he was logging off a few nights later, after saying good night to all his sweet Daddies, he turned off the feed a little envelope popped up in the bottom right corner of his screen. He blinked at it, and it did a bouncy dance, urging him to click on it. He dragged his cursor over it, brows scrunching together at the floating text.   
  
_ One PM Request Waiting... _   
  
Wait, he wasn't supposed to get private messages. He had turned that option off. He didn't want to talk to anyone alone. That would get awkward and uncomfortable super fast. He rubbed at his lips a little, trying to think. Maybe it was Mr Boyd or Miss Reyes. They were his moderators after all. He clicked the dancing envelope, and it opened up a sidebar.   
  
_ KingDaddy has entered the chat... _   
  
Stiles's eyes went wide, and he forgot how to brain.   
  
**KingDaddy:** Hello, HaloCrosse, how are you doing tonight?   
  
Stiles stared a while more, slowly lowering his hands, which had been on his mouth, to the keyboard. He couldn't help it. He was basically meeting the boss right now, and he wasn't prepared. He definitely wasn't wearing appropriate attire, since he was only wearing a stretchy Wonder Woman ladies pajama top and Batman sleep pants.   
  
**HaloCrosse:** Hi! I'm doing good. How're you?   
  
**KingDaddy:** I'm fine. I just wanted to officially welcome you to Best Boy, now that you have been one of our baby boys for almost two months.   
  
**HaloCrosse:** Thanks.   
  
**KingDaddy:** A lot of young men don't stick with it, so I wanted to commend you. I can understand that it can be daunting at first.   
  
**HaloCrosse:** Oh, yeah, gotta admit I didn't know what I was getting into at first. But it's cool now.   
  
**KingDaddy:** Good to hear. Have you thought about your goals with the site?

**HaloCrosse:** Goals?   
  
**KingDaddy:** Are you planning on continuing to stick with it?   
  
**HaloCrosse:** Oh, yeah, I mean, I like the money.   
  
**KingDaddy:** And the attention? ;)   
  
Stiles snorted in the least cute manner possible. Okay, so this guy used smileys. Got it.   
  
**HaloCrosse:** Who doesn't like attention?   
  
**KingDaddy:** True.   
  
**HaloCrosse:** I guess I don't have a reason to leave the site, not until I plan to get a job in my field.    
  
He had almost typed 'real job' but this was a real job. Taxes and all. It just felt more like a hobby that paid, because it was so much fun.   
  
**KingDaddy:** What are you studying?   
  
Stiles bit his lip, rubbing his thumbs against his fingers over the keyboard. Usually when he talked about his major, the conversation went south. But hey, the dude asked.   
  
**HaloCrosse:** I'm taking the prerequisites for metaphysical humanist sciences.   
  
**KingDaddy:** Oh, that's interesting.   
  
Huffing, Stiles rolled his eyes. Yup, that was code for 'I have no idea what that is.'   
  
**KingDaddy:** What specialty are you going into?   
  
What? Stiles stared at the screen.   
  
**HaloCrosse:** I haven't decided yet.   
**  
** **KingDaddy:** I've always found parapsychology fascinating.    
  
Holy actual shit. Where had this guy come from? Stiles didn't know what to feel.   
  
**HaloCrosse:** I was thinking of getting my paranormal certification.   
  
**KingDaddy** : Planning on hunting ghosts?   
  
**HaloCrosse:** It's always been a dream of mine.   
  
**KingDaddy:** You might find something frightening.   
  
**HaloCrosse:** If I am lucky, yeah.   
**  
** **KingDaddy:** Are you the type to go looking for trouble?   
  
**HaloCrosse:** I do my best.   
  
**KingDaddy:** You also got me side-tracked. I don't even recall where I wanted this conversation to go.   
  
**HaloCrosse:** Welllll.... You were asking about my goal, and I did have a question about that.   
  
**KingDaddy:** I'm all ears.   
  
**HaloCrosse:** How difficult is it to get on the front page?

**KingDaddy:** Not difficult. Every Daddy has a type, and if you fit it for enough of them, you'll be propelled to the front easily enough.   
  
**HaloCrosse:** Right, okay.   
  
**KingDaddy:** You are gaining Loyal Daddies steadily, no? You haven't plateaued yet, which is a good sign.   
  
**HaloCrosse:** Yeah. They're all nice guys too.   
  
**KingDaddy:** They may be, but don't be surprised if you come across a Daddy who is not so nice.   
  
**HaloCrosse:** ?   
  
**KingDaddy:** Daddies tend to become protective of their baby boys.   
  
**KingDaddy:** If you get to the front page, that means you'll bump another baby boy off.   
  
**HaloCrosse:** Oh. That's kinda scary.   
  
**KingDaddy:** Don't be scared. It's cam business, and it's good business.   
  
**KingDaddy:** It promotes a competitive attitude, which is good for the site and the Daddies.   
  
**KingDaddy:** All the baby boys know what they are in for.   
  
Yeah, Stiles had totally known about that, sure. He'd lie if asked.   
  
**KingDaddy:** But as I was saying, there is a chance that you could receive some harassment from particularly annoying Daddies. I hope you will be able to continue with your goal in spite of this possibility.   
  
**HaloCrosse:** I can handle it.   
  
Probably. Possibly. Hopefully.   
  
**KingDaddy:** I believe you. However, I have a zero tolerance policy when it comes to harassment.    
  
**KingDaddy:** I'll leave a line open for you. Please report any offending Daddies to me directly.   
  
**HaloCrosse:** Really?   
  
**KingDaddy:** I take the physical and mental well-being of my baby boys very seriously.   
  
Stiles suddenly found it hard to breathe. His heart thumped loud in his chest, and he laid his hand over it, telling it to calm the hell down. Why did he find that little note of possessiveness so invigorating?   
  
**HaloCrosse:** Cool, thanks.   
  
**KingDaddy:** Of course.   
  
**KingDaddy:** Have a good night, Halo. Sleep well.   
  
Stiles gave a mighty shiver.

 

* * *

 

Stiles was tired after a long day of classes and an extra long session of studying at Lydia's. It wasn't surprising his cognitive function was slowed. He shouldn't have been allowed to make decisions, but he needed food. He had entertained the idea of grocery deliveries, but he had received equally exasperated from all of his friends.   
  
Even Kira, and she was sweet as syrup.   
  
So he was standing in the produce section, staring at his choices, and was unable to think up a good reason why he shouldn't spend five dollars on a bundle of washed asparagus in a steam bag when he could get twice as much for half that much, the only difference being that he'd have to put in more effort. He didn't like effort. He was painfully lazy, especially when he was tired.   
  
_ Papa-oom-mow-mow!  _ sang his phone.   
  
He fished it out without looking, hit the button to answer and put it to his ear. "Hey, Pops, what's shaking?" It was Friday. He and his dad had weekly calls, and they did their best to keep to the schedule.   
  
"Hey, bud. Nothing shaking here. Jiggling, maybe, but I'm ignoring it," his dad replied, and Stiles let out a snort of a laugh. "What're you up to?"   
  
"Grocery shopping after a long day of school work." Stiles stifled a yawn.   
  
"How is school? Keeping your grades up?"   
  
Stiles smiled to himself. "Yes, dad. I'm fine. It's not like I'm gonna suddenly flunk out in a week anyway." He was still staring at that stupid asparagus steam bag. The contents did look greener. He squinted at them.   
  
His dad chuckled in his ear. "Okay, okay. Are you at least staying out of trouble, then?"   
  
"Always." That was the easiest lie he had ever told.   
  
"Uh-huh," his dad said, clearly not believing him at all, but he had to ask, or he would have to surrender his Dad Card. "How is Scott doing?"   
  
Stiles grabbed the asparagus bag, deciding washing veggies was a thing people without money did. He tossed it in the cart. "Oh, I see, not gonna ask if he's staying out of trouble?"   
  
"Scott can keep out of trouble just fine. You're a bad influence."   
  
"Jeez, Pops, that's not fair." He snatched a head of cauliflower. "That's it. You're fired. I'm gonna find a nice family to adopt me."   
  
"Good luck with that, kiddo," his dad said, and that smile was so apparent in his voice that it was hard for Stiles not to smile too. "You doing okay, money wise?"

"Uh," Stiles wheeled the cart over to the Granny Smith apples and started rooting through them for the ones without bruises. "Yeah, I'm good. I've, uh, got a part-time job these days."    
  
"Oh? What're you up to?"   
  
Shit, he had managed to somehow skirt around the subject of money with his dad since he started as a camboy. But his dad hadn't asked so directly before. "Well--" Uuuuuh. "I've been editing papers for a bit of extra money."   
  
"Like you did in high school?"   
  
"Yeah." Stiles closed his eyes with a silent sigh. He didn't like lying to his old man, but he also didn't want a lecture when he was standing in the middle of a grocery store.   
  
"That's good, Stiles," his dad said, apparently none-the-wiser. "Is that leaving you with any free time?"   
  
"For what?" Stiles asked, dropping the apple in the plastic bag.   
  
"Well..." His dad took a deep breath through the phone. "Have you been keeping your eyes out for a nice boy to treat you right?"   
  
Stiles blinked rapidly, before his shook his head. "Dad," he tried.   
  
"I know you're prone to crushes. Is there anyone you're desperately crushing on?"   
  
"Daaaaad. I'm twenty years old." He set his bag of apples in his basket and tried to think if he needed anything else.   
  
"That's not a denial."   
  
Stiles let out a loud huff, partially at his dad's attitude and the fact he needed milk, and that was at the back of the building. He turned his cart in that direction. "No, I don't have a crush on anyone."   
  
"That's a shame," he dad said, and he only gave it a two-second breather before he added, "There's a new deputy at the station."   
  
"Dad," Stiles warned.   
  
"He's very nice. He's only a couple years older than you are."   
  
_ "Dad." _

"I think he's probably your type."   
  
"Oh my actual god in heaven," Stiles said, setting his foot on the bottom rung of the basket so he could drag his hand down his face. "I know you are not honestly trying to set me up with your deputy right now. That sounds like an abuse of power."   
  
"He's a very good deputy," his dad added without even trying to deny it. "He turns in very detailed case reports."   
  
Stiles slid his eyes around, realizing he'd stopped next to an end cap covered in candy. He didn't need any of that, but he grabbed a bag of Reese's Pieces anyway. It was a share sized bag that he was going to keep to himself. "So you want someone who will report back to you about me? You should run for governor."   
  
His father didn't bother refuting that accusation. "I just want you to be happy, kiddo."   
  
Stiles let out a sigh, shaking his head slightly. "Thanks, Pops. But you know what would make me really happy?" At his dad's noise of question, he grinned. "If you tell me that you've had a salad at least once this week."   
  
There was a long stretch of guilty silence. "Well, I have to get back to this paperwork, Stiles. I love you. Talk soon."   
  
Stiles laughed, but refrained from saying he was going to send Melissa after his old man. Stiles had been... fairly naughty lately too. "Love you too, Pops."

 

* * *

 

Feeling invigorated by a nice shower, a Monster and something he couldn't explain--probably ADHD related mania, Stiles to try something different for tonight's cam session. He found a sleep shirt with a button front, pulling it on and moving in front of the mirror to see how it flattered his body. He rolled the sleeves up to his elbows and left the front open. 

Then he just stared at himself a moment, tilting his head this way and that. Huh, he wasn't so bad looking, he guessed. He was long-limbed, but he had a long, narrow torso too. His tummy was flat, and his happy trail wasn't more of a shady park than a deadly wilderness. His eyes drifted lower over his reflection. Okay, he had fully intended to put on some skinny jeans with rips or something like that, but... now he was looking at his new, pristine white briefs and was having ideas.

Technically it wasn't nudity if his downtown was covered, right?

Right.

On the way to his bed, he grabbed his snap back and put it on, turning the bill to the back and pulling a tuft of his clean hair through the hole. He knew he looked cute like that. Lydia had once played with his bit of hair for three whole minutes. If it was attractive to her, then it was good enough for everyone else too.

He sat down on the bed and pulled his laptop over, logging in his baby boy account and blinking when he saw he had a message waiting for him. He clicked on it and found it was from one of his mods.

 

_ Stiles, _

_ I saw you have a cam session scheduled for tonight. Don't be weirded out if your Daddies are a little more lively than usual. Conduct business as usual. _

_ :) _

_ Ms Reyes _

 

Well, that was cryptic. Given how eccentric Ms Reyes was, he couldn't decide if she was genuinely warning him about something or just messing with him. He squinted at the squinted before he clicked over to his channel, preparing to go live. His lips parted as he noticed he had almost thirty Daddies in his channel, all waiting for him. Usually they trickled in through the first few minutes. They were on top of it tonight.

He thought about Ms Reyes warning, before he shook his head. It wasn't like he could exactly cancel a couple minutes before he was supposed to go on. He took a few calming breaths that did pretty much nothing and hit the button to go live. Then as it was counting down, he had an idea and shifted onto his side so only his top half was showing. His shirt draped over most of his chest, but there was a definite nip there.

He grinned as the channel went live. "Hello, good sirs," he said in his best sexy voice, feeling emboldened by all the attention he was getting.

The majority of the Daddies greeted him in return. There were a lot of familiar names and some that he had never seen before.

"So," he said, lifting up onto his arm and sliding the flap of his shirt aside to show his chest. "How about those Mets?" He couldn't help but giggle at himself.

**Howl4Me:** Jesus, you look delicious.

**BigPaw:** gettin more comfortable?

**Padre9in:** damn those moles

Stiles laughed, looking down at himself. "Aw, you noticed my moles?" he asked, touching one just under his collarbone, before he dragged his fingertip along his chest,  _ just  _ missing his nipple as he played connect the dots. "I always thought they were kind of unsightly." He smiled as he noticed that quite a few of them were typing.

**TigerBear:** Nothing about you is unsightly, dear boy.   
  
**SilverPapa:** You're gorgeous.   
  
**Padre9in:** beautiful   
  
**TheDuke:** Absolutely stunning.   
  
**DashingSir:** Even in a terrible hate. You know it too, you coy thing.   
  
Stiles laughed, pressing his fingers to his lips. "Honestly I didn't use to, not until very recently. Not until you guys started talking to me." He glanced down at himself, where he was partially hidden from the camera. "I have a surprise for you. Try not to combust, okay?"   
  
At a few questioning pings, he grinned and tilted the screen back so he was out of view. He got onto his knees, adjusting his shirt to fall naturally around him. He rubbed his hands against his naked thighs and breathed out a little sigh. Here we go. He grabbed the top of the laptop and lowered the screen to catch the whole of him.   
  
There was silence at first, long enough for Stiles to get worried. He lowered his eyes. But then his token count blew up, the numbers changing so fast that they were a blur. He watched the counter in surprise, covering his lips with his fingers. When it finally slowed to a stop, he covered his face and laughed giddily into his palms.    
  
"Oh wow," he said, dropping back on his heels with his legs splayed wide. "I suddenly understand the appeal of naked streaming." He snorted, before he reached forward and tipped the screen down enough to catch the whole of him again.   
  
**TheDuke:** What on earth has gotten into you, sweet boy?   
  
**BigPaw:** thought you were a bit of prude   
  
**TigerBear:** Be nice to him.   
  
Stiles shook his head. "It's okay. I'm not a prude. It just takes me a bit to warm up to it, I guess. You've all been so nice to me. I know what you really want. I'm not prepared for the rest but..." He spread his hands. "Here you go."

**CasanovaSir:** I love it.

**CrystalProphet:** wanna taste you

**BigPaw:** can you show more?

Stiles tipped his head to the side. "Like what?"

**TheDuke:** Your throat.

**CrystalProphet:** neck

**BigPaw:** neck

**TigerBear:** Your throat would be beautiful extended. 

Stiles lifted a brow at the screen. "You guys are on it tonight. Did you talk about this beforehand or something?"

**DashingSir:** Why talk to these assholes when I can talk to you?

**Padre9in:** dude

**TigerBear:** That was entirely uncalled for, man.

**DashingSir:** As if it matters.

**TigerBear:** Matters to me.

**DashingSir:** You got a problem with me?

**TigerBear:** I will if you continue being a jackass in this channel.

**DashingSir:** Are what are you gonna fucking do about it then?

"Whoa, whoa," Stiles said, waving his hands in front of his camera. "No. No fighting. That is strictly not permitted in this channel." He pointed at the camera. "I mean it."

**TigerBear:** He's insulting you by acting this way.

**DashingSir:** That's not true.

**TigerBear:** He's insulting all of us.

**DashingSir:** That I don't care about.

**TigerBear:** See? He's a douche.

**DashingSir:** And you're a little pussy.

Stiles heaved a loud sigh. "Either you guys don your Tap Out shirts and go fight it out in a parking lot, or you shut the hell up and act like adults. I'm going to start reporting soon."

**DashingSir:** This isn't worth busting a nut.

He left right after that, and Stiles rolled his eyes in a wide circle. A few moments later, TigerBear left too. Stiles closed his eyes and counted to ten, before he blew a loud breath between his lips. "Okay!" He grinned brightly. "Moving on! So you guys want to see my weird goose throat."

_ TigerBear has entered the channel... _

Stiles lifted his brows. "Hello there."

**TigerBear:** I'm sorry.

Smiling, Stiles shook his head. "It's all good."

He brought up his hands and caught the flaps of his shirt, pulling them out to show his chest. Then he let it slip from his shoulders, tossing it away. Planting his hand on the bed, he leaned to the side and tilted his head back completely to show the length of his throat. He looked at the screen through almost entirely hooded eyes, before he smiled and closed his eyes at the sound of tokens.

"Like that?" he asked, voice a little huskier than usual as he lifted his hand to trail his fingertips from his jawline down. He gave a sudden, very visible shudder and let out a little noise.

**SilverPapa:** Are you cold?

**TigerBear:** Have you eaten? Are you hydrated?

**TheDuke:** I do hope you are taking care of yourself. I would hate for anything to happen to you.

Stiles chuckled, cupping the back of his neck. "Nah, I'm okay. It just... felt good. It's not a touch I'm used to." 

**Padre9in:** oh shit

**TheDuke:** Darling, you make it hard not to ask for things you won't give.

Stiles shrugged and smirked. "Maybe. But you can always ask. You never know what I might say yes to.'

**TheDuke:** I must ask again, what has gotten into you?

**TigerBear:** You feel it, don't you, Halo?

**Howl4Me:** You must. Just like we do.

Stiles honestly had not the foggiest what they were talking about. "Feel what?"

**TigerBear:** The pull, the electricity in the night, the tug on the wilder side of you.

That made Stiles shiver again, and he rubbed his goosebump-covered arms. He just nodded.

**TigerBear:** I knew it. It's written all over your face and body.

**TheDuke:** Speaking of. Can I see your back, Halo?

That almost felt like an interruption. He wanted TigerBear to go on, but he also didn't want to get him special, singular attention. He nodded, lifting onto his knees and turning. He was pretty sure that short burst of token sounds was due to his ass. He smiled to himself as he let the Daddies look at his back. He fought the urge to turn his head and look at what they were saying, would not be tempted by the message dings.    
  
Instead, he moved, rotating his head from side to side and letting out a yawn. He stretched his arms out to his sides then up, arching his back and smiling at the token noise. He grabbed one elbow above his head and leaned to the side, curving his spine. He did the same the other way, biting his lip to keep from bursting out into crazed giggling.   
  
It felt nice to be wanted.   
  
He finally turned around after a couple more minutes, eyes skimming over all the messages that called him every variation of beautiful there was. He felt weird. He was relaxed and invigorated at the same time. It was a nice type of weird.    
  
**Howl4Me:** Would you do me the honor of a private session?   
  
**Howl4Me:** There's so much I want to talk to you about.   
  
Stiles gave him an  _ oh, you _ look, before he shook his head. He was not budging on that.   
  
**Padre9in:** how about me?   
  
**BigPaw:** or me? i'll pay you a lot   
  
Stiles simply smiled at the camera and shook his head again.   
  
**TigerBear:** I'll pay you more!   
  
**TheDuke:** I'll pay you anything.   
  
That pulled a little laugh out of Stiles. "Man, you guys are thirsty tonight," he said, clucking his tongue. "Well, I was gonna save this for next time, but how about I sing again? Would that be okay?"   
  
**SilverPapa:** More than okay.   
  
**TheDuke:** I would love that.   
  
**CrystalProphet:** me too   
  
**BigPaw:** same

**TigerBear:** I guess that will do for now. ;)   
  
Stiles shook his head a little, completely fond, before he went to queue up the music on his laptop. "Okay, this song needs no introduction." He gave them a grin, before he hit play and began singing after the first note.   
  
"I was feeling done in," He shook his head and slid his hand up his neck. "Couldn't win." He touched his lips. "I'd only ever kissed before." He dropped his hand. "I thought there's no use getting into heavy petting. It only leads to trouble and seat wetting." He looked right at the camera. "Now all I want to know is how to go. I've tasted blood and I want more."   
  
He threw off his hat and messed up his hair into an unrecognizable nest. "I'll put up no resistance. I want to stay the distance. I've got an itch to scratch. I need assistance!" He put his hands on himself, breathing a little harder now. "Touch-a touch-a touch-a touch me. I wanna be dirty! Thrill me, chill, fulfill me, creature of the niiiight!"   
  
Stiles didn't stop as he heard the tokens come in then, just put everything he had into the song. He had no idea how many midnight showings of Rocky Horror he'd gone to. It was a safe, happy place for him, so sharing it and having it welcomed made him feel accepted and, honestly, loved. That was unheard-of outside of his tight circle of friends and family.   
  
It was no wonder he was addicted to them.   
  
The song came to an end, and he breathed through parted lips, his face hot. He read the responses--like how they all wanted to be his creature of the night--and grinned widely, quickly wiping some wetness out of his eye. No one said a thing, which was good, though Stiles would have lied and called it sweat.

After he got his oxygen levels under control, he noticed the time. "Welp, I guess it's time to bring this session to a close." He smiled as a few of the Daddies complained. "Don't worry. I will see you in three days. I have a big test day after next to wish me luck."

**SilverPapa:** I am crossing all of my fingers.

Stiles had to laugh at that. "God, that was such a Dad Joke. You guys slay me. Night!" he blew them a loud, dramatic kiss, before he went offline. 

"Guh!" He flopped back on his bed and gave a wide yawn. He wasn't tired, at least not mentally. He had the motivation to  _ do things, _ like hit the gym and run a few miles on the treadmill or maybe clean his whole apartment from top to bottom. He did neither of those things.

Instead, he went to play way too much Train Valley while reclining on his pillows. After all he could see was trains every time he closed his eyes, he set his laptop aside. He grabbed his phone to make sure his alarm was set. Before he unlocked it, one of his apps came up. It was about moon phases, because that seemed pointlessly intriguing at the time. Also, the app spoke in first person as if it was the moon itself.

_ I will reach my full potential tomorrow night _ .

"Huh," Stiles said, before he immediately put that thought aside, checked his alarm, then went to sleep.

 

* * *

 

"You guys spoil me so hard," Stiles half-complained as he opened up his latest box of goodies from his Daddies. He pulled the frankly blasphemous unpoppable bubble wrap aside and grinned. He pulled out the new wireless headset he'd had on his wishlist, pushing the box aside and looking at the back of the package. This was awesome, because his other headset was held together by mostly duct tape with a touch of hopes and dreams. 

Finally, he hugged it and grinned at the camera. "Thank you, Daddy," he purred. No one responded directly to that, but several people complimented his smile. He was such a ham, because he ate it up.

"I hope you guys know you are ruining me for the rest of the world," he said as he was opening up the package of the headset. "Making feel all special and stuff. Not to mention how you are trying so hard to get me on the front page. How did I get so lucky?"

After a few pings, he glanced up from the box.

**BigPaw:** you don't know?

**TheDuke:** That's painfully adorable.

**SilverPapa:** Halo, go check the front page.

Stiles lifted a brow, before he set aside his new headset and pulled the laptop closer. It only took him a second to get to the front page of the site, and he let out a little, ecstatic gasp. There he was! At the bottom in the last position, his one face stared back at him. He'd done it.

He clicked back over to his session window and grinned brightly at them. "I'm on the front page!" he said, a little louder than he'd intended. He covered his mouth, eyes wide, because he was pretty sure yelling at his Daddies wasn't a thing he was supposed to do. 

**Padre9in:** dont be embarrassed   
  
**TigerBear:** You deserve it, Halo.   
  
**SilverPapa:** Agreed.   
  
**TheDuke:** You are allowed to feel good about yourself.   
  
**BigPaw:** you should celebrate!   
  
Stiles laughed into his hands, before he dropped them. "Yeah?" He hummed as he thought about how he was going to celebrate. Then he remembered one of the first requests the Daddies ever had for him. He bit his lip, having bad ideas, before he leaned forward and searched through his Soundcloud for something with heavy bass and no words.   
  
He bobbed his head from side to side to the intro beat as his Daddies asked what he was up to. He merely smiled at them, waiting for the song to go hard. When it did, he started to move in a kind of rotating wiggle that Lydia had once called The Wet Spaghetti. His arms were up, and he was slowly lifting onto his knees.   
  
"Uh! Uh! Who's bad! Who's bad!" he said, knee-walking back so he was entirely in the camera's view. "Made to the page, yeah, made it, made it, made it to the front page, yeah!"    
  
Okay, so maybe he did The Sprinkler just then, but it was all in the heat of the moment.   
  
"Get it! Get it!" He bounced up onto his feet and shook  _ everything _ he'd been given, before dissolving into a body wave as he lowered to the bed like he was playing limbo. Then he lost his balance and fell the rest off the way, bouncing onto the covers.   
  
His laptop made a very sad, betrayed sound as it slid right off the end of the bed and onto the floor.   
  
"Oh! Oh shit!" Stiles scrambled after it, leaning over the bed and looking down. It had landed flat, and the cam session window was still open. He picked it up and inspected it, frowning at the crack in the case. "Good job, me," he mumbled.

**BigPaw:** that was hilarious

**SilverPapa:** Is your laptop okay?

Stiles made an  _ eeeeeeh _ sound and shrugged, poking at the crack on the back. "It has seen better days, but it's not exactly a new model anyway." He belatedly turned off his house music. His poking only made a little piece of the hinge come off. He let out a little whimper as he held it up. "Oops."

**TheDuke:** You should find a nice new one on Amazon.

That made Stiles blink, and he shook his head. "No, it's okay. You guys have given me enough tokens that I could buy one myself."

**TheDuke:** That may be so, but I like buying you things.

**TigerBear:** Same here.

**BigPaw:** yeah

**SilverPapa:** It's fulfilling being able to take care of you.

**CrystalProphet:** totally

Pressing his knuckles to his lips, Stiles found himself smiling so hard it was probably going to get stuck that way. "You guys are the best Daddies a boy could ask for, you know that?" He laughed a little as most of them replied with 'I know.'

Stiles promised them he'd look at new computers on Amazon later, because he knew it would take hours. 

At the end of the session, Stiles was saying goodbye to his Daddies. Most of them had left already, leaving only TheDuke, TigerBear and SilverPapa in the channel.

"Do you guys think I should do something special for my next session?" he asked them, stretching. "You know, to commemorate getting to the front page?" 

**TheDuke:** You are special enough as is. 

**TigerBear:** Yeah, you don't need to reward us for taking care of you. It's reward enough just to see you happy.

**SilverPapa:** I gotta agree with them.

Stiles gave a weird, ugly snort. "Oh my god, stop it. I legit can’t handle that flattery anymore. Full up. Please wait for my stocks to deplete before refilling.” He laughed at his own dumb joke.

_ DaddyShibari had entered the channel… _

Stiles looked surprised, opening his mouth to greet this new Daddy. No one ever came into his sessions so late.

**DaddyShibari:** you’re so ugly

_ DaddyShibari has left the channel… _

**TigerBear:** What the fuck?

**TheDuke:** Who was that?

**SilverPapa:** I’ve seen him around, and he’s always a dick. I’d definitely suggest reporting him, Halo.

Stiles frowned at the screen. This wasn’t the first time he’d been called ugly, so it didn’t affect him as much as it could. He’d had Daddies come in and out of his channel like it had a revolving door. He gave a shrug.

Ultimately he didn’t report the guy, because he’d been in and out so fast, so it wasn’t like he damaged anything. He also didn’t want to bother the boss with something so trivial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently Stiles singing is a thing I like to write. What should Stiles sing next, you think?
> 
> For everyone not wanting to dig through previous comments;  
> TheDuke = Deucalion  
> SilverPapa = Chris Argent  
> KingDaddy = Peter  
> Everyone else is an OC. :D
> 
> If I am failing to brain at your comment and can't think of anything to say, I will leave a ♥. Think of it as an author kudos. :D
> 
> Please don't ask me to update faster. That just makes me want to play video games and sleep instead. This is supposed to be a fun hobby, not an obligation.
> 
> The next chapter will be up on 8/11. :D


	4. Chapter 4

_ MsReyes has entered the chat... _

**MsReyes:** Hey Stiles!

**HaloCrosse:** Hey!

**MsReyes:** How're you?

**HaloCrosse:** Good. Just finished a session. I should be studying, but I think I'm just going to eat a lot of ice cream and binge some Bones. :/

**MsReyes:** Sounds like a Friday night squared away. Who needs good grades when you have murder?

**HaloCrosse:** Philosophy I live my life by.

**MsReyes:** Oh god, I hope not, lololol.

**HaloCrosse:** I am totally a dangerous person.

**MsReyes:** I would bet cash money that you are in your pajamas and probably have Cheetos stains somewhere.

Stiles looked down at himself, even though he knew he didn't. He wouldn't have gone into a cam session with stained clothes. He blinked at his shirt, lifting the hem and frowning.

**HaloCrosse:** Okay, no one told me about this stain, so I am offended.

**MsReyes:** Hahahaha.

Stiles stuck the stained bit of his shirt into his mouth, sucking and gnawing at it in minor agitation.

**HaloCrosse:** I'm going to fire and replace all my Daddies.

**MsReyes:** Speaking of...

**HaloCrosse:** ?

**MsReyes:** Mr Boyd noticed that you have a rude Daddy in your channel the other day. He called you ugly?

**HaloCrosse:** Oh yeah that. It's not a big deal. He didn't stick around.

**MsReyes:** Well, it can become a big deal.

**MsReyes:** We wouldn't want some of the Daddies to feel emboldened by the fact you don't report them.

Stiles stopped sucking at his shirt and let it go. It plapped wetly against his stomach, but he ignored it.

**HaloCrosse:** I doubt it will come to that.

**MsReyes:** About a year ago, we had a baby boy that reached the first page, and he got some hate too. He eventually left the site.

**MsReyes:** I don't want that to happen to you.

**MsReyes:** I like you, Stiles.

**HaloCrosse:** I like you too.

**MsReyes:** I don't want you to feel like you have to leave.

**MsReyes:** You're sweet. People can see that.

**MsReyes:** I don't think the attention will twist you into someone jaded or entitled.

**MsReyes:** Not like some baby boys.

Stiles tapped his thumb lightly against his space bar, biting along his bottom lip.

**HaloCrosse:** Are you talking about that SweetPrince guy?

**MsReyes:** I plead the fifth.

**HaloCrosse:** He looks like he'd be a jerk.

**MsReyes:** He didn't use to be. :(

**HaloCrosse:** You know him for real?

**MsReyes:** We all got recruited at the same time. Him, me and Mr Boyd.

**MsReyes:** That was back when the site was new.

**MsReyes:** We were all friends once...

**HaloCrosse:** Shit, I'm sorry.

**MsReyes:** Don't be. People grow apart. It's a thing that happens as you grow older.

Stiles had the sudden urge to call his friends. He hadn't seen them outside of school for a few weeks. He grabbed his phone.

**MsReyes:** Anyway. Please report anyone who bothers you. Mr Boyd and I are always around for any grievances. 

**HaloCrosse:** When I talked to KingDaddy, he said to report directly to him.

**MsReyes:** Really now?

**MsReyes:** I see.

**HaloCrosse:** What?

**MsReyes:** Nothing. 

**MsReyes:** >:3c

**HaloCrosse:** You know what? I don't want to know.

**MsReyes:** Have a good night, Stiles.

**HaloCrosse:** You too.

Stiles exited out of the chat and closed his computer. He slid it to the side of his bed, plugging it in, before he flopped back. He opened the group chat he had with Scott, Kira and Lydia, asking the if they wanted to get lunch the next day. A late lunch, because he planned to sleep in on all Sundays for the rest of his life.

Scott sent a thumps-up.

Kira answered with a line of hearts of all colors.

Lydia tapped back, "I'm driving and also paying, so I get to pick the place. I want Wakiki Grill. Anyone who argues doesn't eat." She sent a kissy face too, and Stiles snorted. They were having Polynesian food then. He was down for that.

He plugged in his phone, wiggled out of his damp shirt and rolled up in his covers. He poked the base of his touch lamp to cast the room into warm darkness, but for the green charging light of his phone. 

He was having thoughts about how Ms Reyes had reacted to him saying KingDaddy had told him to tattle on mean Daddies directly to him. Why had she been surprised? Was this unusual or something? KingDaddy had said he was protective of all his baby boys.

Stiles snuggled deeper into his blanket. Was he getting special treatment? If so, why? He couldn't have been an interesting baby. He hadn't even shown any dick. All he ever did was spaz about. His loyal Daddies seemed to like it, sure, but…

Face feeling warm, Stiles pulled the flap of the blanket over his head and huffed at himself. There was no point in speculating. KingDaddy was his  _ boss. _ There were rules and stuff. And honestly, just because the guy wanted to know about harassment personally didn't mean anything. It was his site, and he needed to protect its reputation.

Yeah.

But still…

No, stop. Sleep time.

 

* * *

 

Lydia let Stiles sit in the front seat on the way to Wakiki Grill. It was probably due to Scott and Kira wanting to sit together, but he was going to pretend it was a privilege. She did tell him to shut up when he started drumming his hands on the dash and chanting "Spam musubi! Spam musubi! Spam musubi!" He stopped when she asked him if he knew how to tuck and roll through traffic.

He couldn't help it. He was excited to be going to this place. It was the closest one could get to authentic Hawaiian food in the area. At least, that was what he heard. He wouldn't have known, because he had never been to Hawai'i. But anyway, the food was amazing, and he was right there along with Lydia when it came to supporting small businesses serving food from their homelands.

Also, spam musubi!

They ordered at the counter then went to a booth with their drinks. Scott and Kira slid into one side, immediately joining hands like the gross people they were. Stiles sat next to Lydia and shoved his hands between his thighs.

While they were waiting for their food, Kira told them she got to teach a class for a whole week. The teacher she was an assistant for was out because her wife had gone into a difficult labor and was home on bed rest for now. "It's really exciting," she told them, before she paused so they could all thank the server that brought them their food. Then she went on, "I mean, of course no one wanted to listen to me at first because some of them are even older than I am. But once I reminded them that everything I was teaching was going to be on the exam, they shut up and listened." She grinned, looking proud of herself.

"You're going to be awesome when you become a teacher for real," Scott said, looking all starry-eyed, which  _ ew. _

Kira grinned at Scott, her eyes reflecting back at him the same way. Stiles had to look at Lydia, and she returned his expression. Once upon a time in high school, this lovey-dovey thing had been cute, but now it just made Stiles want to vomit.

Stiles cleared his throat before Scott and Kira had the chance to start rubbing their noses together. "So, Lydia, how is your academic espionage going?" Recently a professor had annoyed Lydia by giving her a lower grade than she deserved on a paper, all because he didn't agree with the subject matter despite her citations. She hadn't taken it well.

Lydia gave him a little smile. "It's best for you to know as little as possible. I don't want any loose ends with loose lips." He plucked a piece of chicken katsu off her fork with her shiny pink lips.

"That's fair," Stiles said, knowing he was basically incapable of keeping secrets about Lydia when it came to her brilliance or spitefulness. He took a bite of his musubi, letting out a pleased noise at the grilled, salted meat.

"How's your work going, Stiles?" Scott asked, managing somehow to eat is food without getting it on himself, even with one arm around Kira. 

Pausing mid-chew, Stiles glanced at Kira, wondering how much she knew. She blanked back at him, which he wasn't sure was a poker face or just her normal expression. "Uh, y'know, going well."

"Your, uh..." Scott glanced at Kira as well, and she lifted her brows at him. "Your customers treating you well?" he went on, sounding too conspiratorial to be casual.

Stiles would have kicked Scott under the table if he was sure Kira wouldn't be caught in his foot's path. "Fine, Scott. Everything's good." He glanced at Kira again, and she was looking between him and Scott like she was sure something was up.

Lydia cleared her throat. "Yeah, ah, there hasn't been any issues with your work, has there?" she asked, sticking a piece of steamed broccoli on her mouth. She chewed quickly and swallowed. "There haven't been any... unreasonable requests, right?"

Stiles stared at Lydia a long moment, before he turned his eyes to Scott's earnest and slightly worried face, and finally he looked at Kira's face, seeing confusion and growing suspicion. "I'm not a drug dealer," he blurted out, and her eyes went wide. "Or a murderer." He dragged his hand over his face. "Sorry, uh, I'm a camboy. These two are very bad at subterfuge." 

Scott didn't look offended, and Lydia appeared as if she was trying to be more offended than she actually was. Kira just looked like everything made sense now. She gave him a kind smile.

"Oh! Okay. I hear that's good money." She nodded. "I imagine it works well with your class schedule. Good for you."

If Stiles had had food in his mouth at the moment, it would have dropped right out. He didn't know how to react beyond, "Thank... you?" So far everyone he told was supportive, and he could barely comprehend that. He was surrounded by such nice people. He was completely unworthy.

"Uuuum," Scott began, leaning toward his girlfriend. "So how do you know about the kind of money he would make? Are you... interested in that or something?"

Kira blinked at him. "No, not interested. I like my job at the college cafe."

"Oh, okay." Scott sounded a little too relieved.

"But if I was interested in that..." Kira stared at him in warning.

Scott swallowed so hard his throat clicked. "I mean, yeah, if you were, I would totally support you and stuff. You are your own person and all that."

Kira was all smiles again. She leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Correct." She went back to her food.

"Anywaaaay," Lydia said, and Stiles looked at her. "So things are good? No one asked you to sit on a cake or anything, right?"

It took a moment for Stiles to get all the cherry Coke out of his nostrils. He wiped at his nose and sniffed. "You can't just say stuff like that. But no, no weird requests. Everyone has been nice." He frowned a little. "Well, mostly everyone."

"What do you mean, mostly everyone?" Scott asked, putting on his concerned face, or at least one of his concerned faces. Lydia and Kira had similar expressions.

Stiles sighed a little and launched into an explanation of the whole structure of the website. He told them about the tokens, the ranking system and how to get to the front page. He also told them that getting to the front page meant taking someone's place, and that some Daddies didn't like him being a threat to anyone's position.

"That makes sense," Lydia said, patting his arm. "It is a business, and it sounds competitive." 

Stiles nodded. "It is."

"You don't have to please everyone though," Kira added. "And it's not like you're going to find a boyfriend on the site, right?"

Stiles looked down into his cup, not wanting to say anything about how it felt like he already had so many boyfriends. He cleared his throat. "Speaking of, my dad tried to set me up with one of his deputies."

That had the desired effect. Stiles told them all about the awkward way his dad had gone about it, and Scott was in stitches by the end of it, holding his stomach and looking like he might have an asthma attack in a minute. They could all agree that his dad was wonderful, but he was also terrible when it came to all things relationships.

As they were leaving Wakiki Grill, Stiles caught the hem of blue satin bomber jacket and stopped her, letting Scott and Kira get ahead of them. "Hey, Lyds, can you teach me to dance?" he asked, putting on his big eyes and cute Bambi face.

She just quirked a brow at him. "You can dance. More or less. The Electric Slide is a dance."

He shook his head, leaning in. "No, I mean like sexy dancing."

A grin grew across her face in a shocking formation. "Sure."

 

* * *

 

_ KingDaddy has entered the chat... _

**KingDaddy:** Hello, Halo.

**HaloCrosse:** Hi.

**KingDaddy:** Congratulations on reaching the front page. That has to be one of the quickest ascents in the history of Best Boy.

**HaloCrosse:** Thanks a lot. I feel pretty damn awesome about it.

**KingDaddy:** You should. It is an achievement worthy of an inflated ego.

**HaloCrosse:** Lol.

Stiles sighed happily, pleased at the attention he was getting but figuring this was probably a cursory congratulation mandated by KingDaddy's position. He suspected a goodbye was soon and tried to think of a good farewell himself.

**KingDaddy:** So how are your studies going?

Stiles blinked. Oh.

**HaloCrosse:** Good.

**HaloCrosse:** I mean, I'm trying to write a paper for my class on the study of seances. Like the history, and the ones that were a hoax as well as the ones that couldn't be disproved.

**KingDaddy:** Sounds like an interesting read.

**HaloCrosse:** Ha, yeah, sure it would be if there were any succinct texts on the subject.

**KingDaddy:** Oh?

**HaloCrosse:** I can't find any books or websites that would give me enough information without drowning it all in opinion. And I don't want to use two hundred different citations and in the process accidentally contradict myself.

**KingDaddy:** I no longer feel nostalgic for my college days.

**KingDaddy:** Why did you pick the subject without the subject matter?

Stiles heaved a loud sigh.

**HaloCrosse:** Okay well, there's this douchecanoe, right? I'm pretty sure he's taking the course as a joke or because he thought it would be as easy as watching The Poltergeist. He starts making all this noise about how seances were only ever a ploy to get money out of people and obviously have no basis in reality.

**HaloCrosse:** So I just blurt out that I'm going to write a paper proving him wrong, because somebody has to.

**KingDaddy:** Are you saying you chose the subject of your paper out of spite?

**HaloCrosse:** Basically.

**KingDaddy:** You should be a journalist.

**HaloCrosse:** Lol.

**KingDaddy:** Here, let me see if I can locate anything. Do you have some time?

Stiles put a hand on his chest, convincing himself that the hard, fast beat of his heart was entirely to do with his medication. He smiled to himself.

**HaloCrosse:** Yeah, I have a bit before I need to sleep.

**KingDaddy:** Then let us pool our resources and see what we can come up with.

**HaloCrosse:** Awesome.

Stiles pulled up a Google search and tried more phrases and keywords to find what he was looking for. KingDaddy's chat window was a bow in the lower right corner of his screen. He knew this information had to exist. Humans loved writing things down.

**KingDaddy:** While I have you, how is your EVP certification going?

**HaloCrosse:** Great. That class is awesome. I have about four months left?

**KingDaddy:** Glad to hear it. You'll be a technician in no time.

**HaloCrosse:** I'm excited.

**KingDaddy:** Planning on getting together with some cameramen and a clairvoyant to have your own show?

Stiles laughed, a sudden bark of a noise. 

**HaloCrosse:** I dunno about that. I mean, sure that's been my dream a long time, but I still have a lot of work to do and more certifications to gather before I think about that.

**KingDaddy:** What year of college are you in?

**HaloCrosse:** Sophomore, but I feel like a fish every day of my life.

**KingDaddy:** That feeling will never go away, sorry to say.

**HaloCrosse:** Aww :(

**KingDaddy:** You're at Berkeley, right?

**HaloCrosse:** Yeah. I didn't want to go too far away from home.

**HaloCrosse:** Most of my friends landed here too.

**HaloCrosse:** Pretty sure my one friend is transferring to MIT next year. She is a math genius.

**HaloCrosse:** My other friend is going to be a teacher. My very bestest friend ever is well on his way of becoming a vet.

**HaloCrosse:** Everyone has normal goals, and I wanna hunt ghosts.

**KingDaddy:** Normal can be synonymous with boring.

**HaloCrosse:** Maybe, but it can also be stable?

**KingDaddy:** True.

**HaloCrosse:** What did you go to college for?

**KingDaddy:** Creative writing.

**HaloCrosse:** Oh man, are you published?

**KingDaddy:** I am.

**HaloCrosse:** Are you going to tell me what you wrote?

**KingDaddy:** Nope. ;)

**HaloCrosse:** That's mean!

**KingDaddy:** You haven't seen me mean yet.

Stiles sucked in a breath, a shudder making a quivering path down his spine. Were... Were they flirting? Is this was flirting felt like? Oh God, he didn't know what to think or what to say. He covered his mouth and stared at the screen.

**KingDaddy:** I went to Berkeley too. It's a good area.

**HaloCrosse:** It's only a couple hours away from where I live.

**KingDaddy:** Ah right, Beacon Hills, I saw on your driver's license. That's a good town.

**HaloCrosse:** You've been to that hole in the ground?

**KingDaddy:** I have family there.

**HaloCrosse:** My condolences to your family.

**KingDaddy:** Lol.

**HaloCrosse:** My dad's the sheriff.

**KingDaddy:** I can't tell if that's good or bad. It's a sleepy town, not a lot must go on.

**HaloCrosse:** A few drunk people peeing in public. There was a streaker once.

**KingDaddy:** His job is pretty safe then.

**KingDaddy:** I imagine you made trouble for him.

**HaloCrosse:** You would not believe the messes my friend, Scott, and I got ourselves into.

**KingDaddy:** Please enlighten me.

**HaloCrosse:** Okay well, it took me a couple weeks to figure out the logistics, but have you ever seen a school pool full of tangerine jello? 

**KingDaddy:** Jesus Christ...

Stiles kept babbling about all of his teenage antics. Like how he'd taken all the screws and bolts out of his lacrosse coach's office furniture and caused it all to fall down once he'd sat at his desk. When he and Scott snuck into the school library and stuffed a bunch of raunchy romance novels in the biology section. Or when he'd sprayed the underside of his chemistry teacher's desk with Liquid Ass. 

**KingDaddy:** You sound like that perfect candidate for house arrest.

**HaloCrosse:** I got grounded a lot.

**KingDaddy:** Which, no doubt, gave you even more time to yourself to come up with even more elaborate pranks.

**HaloCrosse:** :)

**KingDaddy:** Cheeky boy.

Stiles bit his lip and gave into the urge to rock side to side, so pleased with himself.

**KingDaddy:** Ah! I think I have found what you need for your paper.

**HaloCrosse:** Yeah?

KingDaddy sent him a link to an Amazon listing of a seven volume book collection titled The History of Contacting the Other Side. He read the synopsis of each volume, a grin spreading farther and farther across his face as he did so. This was perfect! It was a detailing of events and a cataloging of witness statements without any obvious bias. He went to hit the Buy Now button, but he saw the price and his grin turned into a pout.

**HaloCrosse:** Holy crap it's $1500. I don't have enough money right now to throw down on it.

**KingDaddy:** Put it on your wishlist.

**HaloCrosse:** No one would buy me that. It's way too expensive, and it's not a fun gift like candy that I'll eat on screen or some clothes I'll model.

**KingDaddy:** You never know. Given the amount of loyal Daddies you have amassed in the past few months, there is no doubt one or two that are watching your list like a hawk.

**HaloCrosse:** You think so?

**KingDaddy:** This is my business. I know so.

**HaloCrosse:** Okay.

Stiles added the collection to his wishlist, adding a note that he really needed it, like  _ really really. _ He hoped among his collection of Daddies, there was someone kind enough to help him pass his classes. That done, he looked at the time and balked. He and KingDaddy had been talking and scouring for these books for almost two hours.

**HaloCrosse:** Oh man, it is super late. I have a noon class tomorrow, but I still gotta sleep.

**KingDaddy:** Alright, I'll let you rest then. 

Stiles bit his lip to control his smile.

**HaloCrosse:** Thanks for helping me out.

**KingDaddy:** Of course, Halo.

**KingDaddy:** Before you go, I want you to know that you can come to me for any grievances. 

**HaloCrosse:** I guess you talked to MS Reyes, huh?

**KingDaddy:** She talked to me. Emphatically. 

**KingDaddy:** But please, if any of the Daddies are giving you a hard time, I can't help unless you tell me.

Stiles rubbed his fingertips together and gnawed at his lip. He felt a bit guilty now.

**HaloCrosse:** Okay, will do.

**KingDaddy:** Sleep well, Halo.

**HaloCrosse:** Thanks. You too.

Logging off, Stiles pushed his computer away and flopped back on the bed. He contemplated devoting some thinking time to how KingDaddy was treating him, about whether it was special or not. But he didn't need that hyper fixation right then. Instead, he went to shower, drank a glass of water and had a snack, before he went to bed.

As he was drifting off, he wondered what KingDaddy's voice sounded like.

When he woke up, he shut off his phone alarm and noticed he had a notification from Amazon. He started giggling to himself. Someone had bought him the collection of books, and they would arrive in a couple days.

He had the best Daddies ever.

 

* * *

 

When Stiles's channel went live, he was sitting cross-legged on his bed, wearing a lavender button down shirt, a white undershirt and some nice grey slacks with no shoes or socks. He smiled at his audience as they filtered in. "Hello, Daddy," he purred to them and got his usual enthusiastic response back. It delighted him that they seemed to fight to greet him first.

"So, I have a treat for you guys tonight. A little thank you for helping get me to the front page," he told them, tilting his head and grinning at them.

**CasanovaSir:** You don't have to do that.

**SilverPapa:** You don't owe us anything.

**BigPaw:** yeah

**Howl4Me:** Your existence is treat enough.

**TheDuke:** Agreed.

**TigerBear:** But, in all honesty, what did you have in mind?

Stiles snickered, nose scrunching up a bit. "You'll see." He leaned forward and picked up his computer as he slid off the bed. "Look!" He turned the camera towards his surroundings. "I cleaned my room for you, because I need more room for this." He turned the computer back around and walked over to set it on his desk, fixing the camera so it focused on him. "Any guesses on what I have planned?"

**Padre9in:** are you gonna sing for us again

**CrystalProphet:** i hope it's dancing

**SilverPapa:** I'm about 23% sure you're about to tell us you're Spider-Man.

Laughter erupted out of Stiles like he couldn't control it. He covered his face and bent over, snickering madly. He managed to get a hold on himself and stood up again. "Okay, well, being Spidey was literally all I wanted for a long time, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to disappoint you, Papa. It's singing  _ and _ dancing."

**SilverPapa:** That doesn't disappoint me at all.

Stiles grinned as everyone else agreed.

"Well, I had to ask my friend to teach me how to dance, because The Sprinkler is not a sexy move," Stiles said as he queued up the song. "I might have been practicing for the past few days." He swallowed, feeling a little hot in the face. He wasn't going to say anything about how he'd been working the room while reading his study material, trying to figure out which way of swinging his hips would be sexy and also keep him from falling on his ass.

The song started with a scratchy guitar note, and Stiles backed up as the clapping started, standing on the mark he'd put on his floor where he had made sure the camera caught all of him. As the beat started, he slid his hips from side to side, almost undulating like a snake as he slid his fingers up his neck.

"I ain't no angel," he sang, rolling to the thump. "Don't got no halo." He reached above his head. "I cut off my wings, made my momma scream." He looked to the camera as he started to rotated in a slow, dirty circle. "I'm your darkest dream." He brought his hands to the buttons of his shirt, popping one. "They call me devil. My heart is empty." He popped another. "They call me devil. Just try and tempt me."

He continued to swing about, unbuttoning his shirt as he did. "I'll take your soul. I'll eat you whole. Ain't no other way." He was almost out of buttons now. "They call me devil." He stretched the flaps of his shirt out at his sides, looking over his shoulder at the camera. "And you should be afraid."

He turned, letting his Daddies see the pumping of his hips as he leaned back, spine curving and head tipping back. The shirt slid from his arms, and he rolled back up, taking hold of the hem of his undershirt. "I'll tell you lies." He lifted the undershirt slow, showing his flat belly and happy trail. "I'll crawl inside your mind." He slid his fingers across his nipples as they were revealed.

"Grab hold of your eyes," he sang as he ripped off the shirt and slid his fingers lightly over the hem of his slacks. "I'll make you mine." He released the button and drew down the fly. "And I'm gonna take my time." He opened the flaps of his slacks to reveal the real treat he had for his Daddies.

He was wearing a pair of red lace underwear, specifically made for people with dicks. There was a little bow on the back, which he showed by swinging around and pushing the slacks over the small swell of his ass. Even over the bass, he could hear the heavy cascade of tokens, and he smiled to himself.

He continued to sing and twist as the slacks slid their way down his legs. "Oh, oh, oh!" He kicked the slacks away and rotated about to grin at the camera, slowly approaching it. "I'm coming, I'm comic. So start running, start running." He put his hands on the edge of the desk and glanced at the picture he made in the preview window. He was flushed, lips much redder than usual, and his nipples were at attention. He licked his lips slowly. "They call me devil, and you should afraid."

There was silence as he panted in the aftermath of his dance, trembling a little. He knew he should plop in his chair, but he wanted to remain graceful for just a bit longer.

**TigerBear:** Sweet baby Jesus in a handbasket.

Stiles snorted, and that seemed to open the floodgates for similar exclamations of surprise. Stiles wobbled and grabbed his desk chair to sit down, reading it all. So many words were being used to describe him: beautiful, sexy, glorious, mesmerizing, enchanting, etc. So many things he had never been called before he joined the site. He felt his lip wobble, and he rubbed his eye with the heel of his palm.

**TheDuke:** Darling boy, are you upset?

**Padre9in:** pls don't cry

**Howl4Me:** Baby, you're perfect. Don't be sad.

Stiles shook his head, sniffing a little. "No, no, I'm good, just got a little sweat in my eye there." He smiled and chuckled, before he bit his lip. "I'm glad you guys liked my dance. I'm even more glad I didn't fall. I just wanted to please you so much."

**SilverPapa:** You don't have to try. It seems like a natural thing for you. But I appreciate it.

**BigPaw:** same

**CasanovaSir:** Agreed.

Stiles gave a deep sigh, pretty sure this was what being in love with a bunch of different people felt like. 

**TheDuke:** So tell us about those delicious underwear of yours.

Stiles made a sound like  _ pff _ and stood up to show them off again. "I saw them online and bought them. They're lined with cotton, and they feel awesome," he explained, turning to show them the bow and giving his butt a little shake and slap. "Thought you guys might appreciate them."

**TigerBear** : I'd certainly appreciate them between my teeth and then on my floor.

Stiles smiled at the camera. "I guess you've got your fantasy worked out for when you're alone with your hand later, huh?" He stuck out his tongue.

**TigerBear:** You brat!

Stiles snorted into his palm as the other Daddies laughed it up. He had to admit that he loved teasing TigerBear. The guy kept nudging at his boundaries, and Stiles kept pushing him back. It was kind of like a game, and he was pretty sure the guy loved it, or he would have withdrawn his loyalty by now.

He kept talking to his Daddies as the time on his session ran out. He drank an entire bottle of water in the process, encouraged by SilverPapa. He was pretty sure that if these guys just wanted to see him in his underwear, he wouldn't have liked this business. But they went out of their way to take care of him. It wasn't something he was used to, not now that he was out of the house.

Eventually the session was drawing to a close, and his Daddies were leaving the channel. As per usual, TigerBear, SilverPapa and TheDuke were the last to go. Each of them liked to be last, which typically meant Stiles shut off the channel on them because they were all so stubborn.

He adored them.

_ DaddyShibari has entered the channel... _

**DaddyShibari:** how the fuck did you get uglier?

_ DaddyShibari has left the channel... _

Stiles frowned in the aftermath. This time it actually stung. It was a bit of a smack in the face after so many of his Daddies praised him. It wasn't unusual for him to let one bad thing ruin a string of good anyway. He sighed and looked down at his keyboard.

**TheDuke:** Please report him, sweetheart. This isn't acceptable.

**SilverPapa:** There are rules against harassment for a reason.

**TigerBear:** He should get banned for his audacity.

Stiles nodded, swallowing. "I will. Thanks, guys. Good night."

He gave them a chance to say farewell back before he closed the session. It left the chat window up, but it disallowed people to enter. He opened up a PM window to KingDaddy.

**HaloCrosse:** Had someone insult me today. Same guy as before.

He noticed there was an option to attach a file, so he took a screenshot of the chat and attached it.

**HaloCrosse:** Hope this helps. Thanks.

He logged off and pulled up Netflix instead. As the intro to Bones was playing, he went and changed out of the lacy undies and into some ratty boxers and sleep pants. He didn't feel sexy enough to wear those anymore.

Stiles woke up the next day to a message from KingDaddy that he would look into the matter personally. Sighing in relief, Stiles figured that would be the end of it, but it wasn't over. At the end of three more sessions, different people came in and called him ugly, all in pretty much the same way as the first guy. Stiles reported them all.

After a total of seven times of name-calling, Stiles couldn't help but start a session with a sad frown. "Hey, Daddy," he said, much less enthused than his standard greeting. He gave them a sort of smile then looked down at his hands.

**BigPaw:** sorry this is happening. it's not fair

**TheDuke:** You deserve much better than these assholes and their incorrect opinions.

Stiles rubbed his thumbs together, shaking his head. "Nah, I was warned that it would happen. I just didn't know it would feel like this."

**SilverPapa:** If you keep reporting them, they'll stop.

"Yeah," Stiles said, rubbing his cheek and letting out a long sigh.

**TigerBear:** It will be okay, dear.

Stiles stared into the camera, before he took in a long breath. "I'm gonna sing for you guys," he announced, leaning forward to bring up his Spotify. "I didn't... I didn't practice it or anything, but I want to sing it. It expresses how I feel right now."

No one argued, and he wasn't sure he would have stopped if they had. The music started, he took a deep breath, let it out, then started to sing. "Send somebody to me alive. Send somebody vital. Send somebody not likely to die. Send someone who's vital." He closed his eyes as he tipped his head down. "Send a fighter."

His brow folded up. "Send somebody to me tonight. Send somebody bolder." He lifted his head, eyes still closed. "Send somebody not likely to break. Send someone who's older." His eyelids lifted. "Send a soldier."

He took in a quick breath. "Tonight is all you've got, you told me. There's no more every day. Tonight is all, and then it's over. There's no more every day. Send a soldier." He put his hands against his temples. "Someone who'll get it, someone who'll get it, someone who'll get it! That's all!" He could feel a sting in his chest, in his eyes, and he couldn't bear to look at the screen. He didn't want to how his Daddies felt.

This wasn't about them, not this time.

"Send somebody out of his mind," he gasped, voice quivering. "Send a goddamn leader. Send someone not psycho-polite. Send some goddamn freedom." He dropped his hands and bowed his head. "Someone breathing."

The music went on, but Stiles stopped singing, covering his eyes and trying to control the wibbling of his lip. He heard a few pings, probably his Daddies expressing concern, but he couldn't look right now. He swallowed a few times as the song came to an end. He reached forward and hit the spacebar to make sure a different song didn't start playing.

"I'll be right back," he said without looking at the computer and hurried into his bathroom to allow himself to cry just a little, sobs forcing their way out of his throat. But he got a handle on it after a minute, grabbing a washcloth to soak it in cold water and hold it against his face.

He was so very lonely all of a sudden.

He went back into his room and slid into view of the laptop camera. His viewer count was still the same. There were multiple messages of worry and comfort. He gave them a kind of hollow smile. "Sorry, Daddy. I got sad. I didn't mean to ruin the show." He rubbed at his eyebrow, playing at sheepish, because they liked him that way.

**TheDuke:** Dear heart, you have nothing to apologize for.

**SilverPapa:** Your song was beautiful.

**BigPaw:** yeah it was

**Howl4Me:** I wish I could be there to hug you.

**TigerBear:** I would hold you until you felt some semblance of better. 

"I'll be okay," Stiles said, though he appreciated the effort they were making. "I mean, they have to stop sometime."

**SilverPapa:** You could lock your channel.

Stiles blinked. "What do you mean?"

**SilverPapa:** If you go into the settings of your channel, you can lock it so only your Loyal Daddies can access it.

**TigerBear:** That's possible?

**SilverPapa:** It's not a thing that is suggested, because then you wouldn't be able to get new Daddies.

**TheDuke:** I assume that if your Loyal ones left, they wouldn't be able to return?

**SilverPapa:** Yeah, and you might fall off the front page if you lose that much traffic.

Stiles looked down at his hands, screwing up his lips. "Well, I guess that's an option if it gets any worse than now, right?" He shrugged. "Thanks, Papa, that's good advice."

**SilverPapa:** Sure. I just want you to be comfortable. I very much do not want you to leave.

**Howl4Me:** Same.

**Padre9in:** that'd be awful

**CasanovaSir:** You're the best baby on this site, Halo.

**TigerBear:** Agreed.

**TheDuke:** If not everyone can see that, then that's their problem, not yours.

Stiles gave them a small smile, nodding as his heart felt just a little lighter. If anything, he could lock his channel and have just his Loyal Daddies. That would be enough for him, he thought.

At the end of the session, everyone but his favorite three left again. There was an air of suspense as the clock ticked down. But no one else came in. With a wave to his Daddies, he shut the channel down and gave a sigh.

Almost immediately, the dancing PM envelope appeared in the corner of his screen. He clicked on it, figuring that it was probably KingDaddy, here to tell him about all the mean Daddies he'd booted off his site.

_ SweetPrince has entered the chat... _

Or not.

**SweetPrince:** Hey

**HaloCrosse:** Hi?

**SweetPrince:** Yeah so sorry about some of my daddies comin into your channel and being jerks to you. I told them to stop.

**SweetPrince:** They do what I tell them so you should be good now.

Stiles felt his eyelid twitch. He wanted to scream.

**HaloCrosse:** Thanks.

**SweetPrince:** Sure so I was thinking. We should do a show together.

**HaloCrosse:** What?

**SweetPrince:** You go to Berkeley right? I'm right outside the campus area. 

**SweetPrince:** Used to go to that school but I dropped out.

**HaloCrosse:** You're serious?

**SweetPrince:** Why not. I've done a couple shows with other babies and we both made like four times the regular amount of tokens.

**SweetPrince:** We'll both get more viewers and it'll get everyone off your back if they see you as friend not an enemy out to get me.

**HaloCrosse:** Oh.

**SweetPrince:** You down?

Stiles held his face in his hands, tapping his pinky on his lips as he stared at screen. Was he ready for this? Was it even a good idea? Was it a  _ bad _ idea? He couldn't tell. But he needed to know.

**HaloCrosse:** Sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry (but not really) about the sad. Stiles probably only has one more song in him.
> 
> The rating will change to Explicit next chapter. It's mostly outlined already, and I will start writing soon.
> 
> For everyone not wanting to dig through previous comments;  
> TheDuke = Deucalion  
> SilverPapa = Chris Argent  
> KingDaddy = Peter  
> SweetPrince = Isaac Lahey  
> Everyone else is an OC. :D
> 
> If I am failing to brain at your comment and can't think of anything to say, I will leave a ♥. Think of it as an author kudos. :D
> 
> Please don't ask me to update faster. That just makes me want to play video games and sleep instead. This is supposed to be a fun hobby, not an obligation.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind the updated ships. Lots of minor stuff, but Steter remains endgame. :D
> 
> I bled for this 8500 words.
> 
> Happy birthday to the kind anon on Tumblr!
> 
> Would you like some sexy and then some sad? Here you go!

_ KingDaddy has entered the chat… _

_ MsReyes has entered the chat... _

**KingDaddy:** Hello, Halo.

**HaloCrosse:** Hey.

Stiles knew why they wanted to talk to him. He was just surprised that they both had to be there at the same time. Ms Reyes was his mod, so she could handle it. But maybe KingDaddy was just very invested and hands on when it came to his site.

**KingDaddy:** MsReyes and I wanted to talk to you about that joint show that SweetPrince proposed to us last night.

**HaloCrosse:** That was fast.

**MsReyes:** He's always on top of things.

**KingDaddy** : We've done a number of joint shows on the site, and Prince has been part of at least half of them, so he's a veteran at this. But I doubt he explained any of the etiquette.

**HaloCrosse:** He didn't.

Honestly they hadn't talked much at all after Stiles had agreed to the show. The guy had just said he'd message him later about a date and left the channel. He was straightforward like that, Stiles supposed.

**MsReyes:** It's basically like any show. There's a scheduled time, and you guys can discuss the place. He'll probably want you to go to his, because he has good film equipment and a lighting room.

**HaloCrosse:** Jeez.

**KingDaddy:** He has had enough time at this to learn all the tricks.

**KingDaddy:** I do need to remind you that Prince has very little limitations to his shows. He does nudity, masturbation and some partner work.

**HaloCrosse:** Oh.

**KingDaddy:** Since you don't, you definitely need to discuss what you are comfortable with before you go live.

**MsReyes:** Prince is a professional. He won't like it if something goes wrong, neither will his Daddies.

**HaloCrosse:** Okay.

Stiles knew he didn't want to be on the receiving end of bitterness from those Daddies again. Hopefully he and Prince could come to an arrangement that wouldn't push him farther than he wanted to go and still make a good show out of it.

**KingDaddy:** You can back out if you need to, preferably before anything starts. Your Daddies will understand.

**HaloCrosse:** Won't the show mean good business for you though?

**HaloCrosse:** I mean, Prince was saying we would earn like four times as much. That's a lot of web traffic, right?

**KingDaddy:** That isn't as important as your well-being. 

**MsReyes:**  <_< Bossman. 

**KingDaddy:** You hush. You know I care deeply for all my dear babies.

**MsReyes:** Uh huh.

**HaloCrosse:** ??

What was this exchange about? Stiles put his hand on his chest, feeling the thump of his heart.

**KingDaddy:** Are you sure you want to do this?

No, not really, but he had always leapt into situations hoping for the best, usually to get things going to make things stop.

**HaloCrosse:** I'm sure.

**KingDaddy** : Alright. I'll start advertising.

**MsReyes:** This is gonna be huge.

Stiles swallowed hard.

 

* * *

 

The next time that Stiles logged onto the website, he was greeted with a banner across the front page. It said,  _ The Show Everyone's Talking About _ and featured his and Prince's names as well as their pictures. God, he looked like a bridge troll compared to that guy, someone just playing at human. But then again, he couldn't be mad, because everyone could see him now.

He opened up his channel, composed himself as it came time, and went live. He grinned at the camera and purred, "Hello, Daddy." 

**CasanovaSir:** Halo! It's good to see you!

**Padre9in:** what is this about a show???

**BigPaw:** how'd you even get that ball rolling

**Howl4Me:** How long have you been hiding this from us, saucy boy?

Stiles laughed at the accusation. They didn't know he couldn't keep a secret for the life of him. "Not really hiding. After my last show, SweetPrince messaged me and asked if I wanted to do a show together. He said it would cool things off and stop the harassment."

He expected them to be relieved, to be pleased that he and Prince were working through some obviously annoying stuff. Daddies, right? Haha. But he got a silence in the wake of his words. He tipped his head at them.

**SilverPapa:** I see.

"What?" he asked. "What am I not seeing?"

**SilverPapa:** Well, I can't say with 100% certainty, but the last time a new guy came creeping in on SweetPrince's territory, he might have told his Daddies to go talk some shit.

Stiles’s brows came together as he pondered that possibility. Prince did say that his Daddies did what he told them to do. But why would he orchestrate such a thing? What was his goal?

**TheDuke:** Is that so?

**SilverPapa:** Again, not a 100% certain.

**TigerBear:** Did last time end in them doing a show together?

**SilverPapa:** Not that I recall.

**TheDuke:** Huh. Well, It's my hope that the offer was sincere then, because I would love to see you interact with another baby boy, Halo.

Stiles smiled at the screen. "Oh, we're gonna interact, alright."

**TheDuke:** Are you planning on breaking your no nudity rule?

Stiles shrugged. "I mean, I haven't really talked to the guy about what we're planning to do."

**TheDuke:** But you're at least open to it.

Looking down, Stiles ran his thumb across the edge of his laptop. "Maybe. I guess we'll just go where the mood takes us. I never know how I'm going to feel in the moment."

**TigerBear:** Are you planning on losing your virginity?

Stiles felt his face go hot, sucking in a breath as he bit at his lip. He shrugged again. "Honestly? I don't know. It's a possibility, I guess." 

**TigerBear:** Holy shit.

**CrystalProphet:** now I have to make sure I watch

**BigPaw:** same

**Padre9in:** same.

**TheDuke:** I will certainly be in attendance.

**SilverPapa:** Same here.

**CasanovaSir:** Definitely.

Stiles watched and smiled as more people that had never actually said anything spoke up and vowed to watch the show. Apparently the idea of witnessing Stiles in the throes of passion was so completely titillating to them. Stiles appreciated that.

 

* * *

 

When Stiles logged off of his channel, the happy dancing PM envelope appeared at the corner of his screen. He didn't know who he wanted it to be, but he was pretty sure he knew who it was. He opened it, and the chat came up on the side of his screen.

SweetPrince _ has entered the chat... _

**SweetPrince:** Hey dude.

**HaloCrosse:** Hey.

**SweetPrince:** So you saw the banner huh? My Daddies are stoked. What about yours?

**HaloCrosse:** They're excited, yeah.

**SweetPrince:** They should be. They'll get so much more than they usually do.

Stiles bit his lips together and curled his fingers into loose fists. He wasn't going to be insulted. That would get neither of them anywhere. 

**HaloCrosse:** Yeah. They promised to watch.

**SweetPrince:** Good awesome. My Daddies will be there too.

**SweetPrince:** So it's pretty straightforward and stuff. I don't want to script anything. Just go with it you know?

**HaloCrosse:** Yeah, sounds good.

**SweetPrince:** Good. I'll send you my address. It's only like a mile and a half from the campus so you can practically walk there if want. I wouldn't but I don't walk anywhere.

**HaloCrosse:** Sure.

**SweetPrince:** Cool. Bring anything you need. See you in three days.

**HaloCrosse:** See you.

_ SweetPrince has left the chat... _

Stiles sighed to himself and logged off, closing his laptop and flopping onto his back. So this was happening. He made a commitment. KingDaddy had said he could back out, but he couldn't really, not now. He didn't want to disappoint anyone.

He grabbed his phone and rattled off a text to Scott, Kira and Lydia that said, "Doing a show with another camboy."

Scott replied immediately with his caps key stuck to on, "DUDE WHAT"

Kira was more rational, "Is that a good thing?"

Stiles wiggled into a more comfortable position and sent back, "It's not a bad thing."

Lydia got right to the meat of the conversation, "Does this camboy do nudity?"

Pressing his lips together, Stiles replied, "Yeah."

"I'm coming over." 

Stiles squinted at the mini clock on his phone. "Lyds, it's almost midnight."

"I. Am. Coming. Over."

Shit, it was either accept it or find out if Lydia knew how to pick locks. She probably did. She was chock-full of skills. "Okay."

About twenty minutes later, Lydia arrived with a plastic baggie loaded down with stuff. He let her in, and she went right over to his little dining table. "Let the record show that I am advising you against this," she said as she started pulling things out of the bag and setting them on the table.

"The record has your warning immortalized," Stiles said, walking over to her and picking up the first box. Welp, those were condoms in various sizes. He picked up a bottle and found it to be a lube called Sliquid. He looked at his friend, brows up close to his hairline.

"What?" Lydia asked. "It's sealed. And it's a good brand, okay? I would not be a good friend if I let you use some garbage like KY."

"What's wrong with KY?"

_ "Everything." _

Stiles huffed and picked up the last box, which was ten pairs of latex gloves. "Where did you even get this stuff so late? You didn't even take that long to get here."

"They're extras from my supply storage."

"You have a storage... of sex stuff?" When she nodded, be blinked at her. "What all do you have in that storage?"

"Let's just say," Lydia said haughtily as she somehow folded the plastic bag into a perfect little square. "I have prepared for every eventuality." She set the bag down and patted it. "If you were meeting a girl, I'd give you dental dams." She put her nose in the air and headed for his fridge.

"I have questions!" he squawked, trailing after her.

She handed him a bottle of water. "The answer to a good amount of those is probably yes," she said, opening her own bottle of water and taking a drink out it. Then she went to his couch, and he went after her again, sucking at his own bottle, since he couldn't drink like a normal person.

He sat down next to her. "Do you think I'm ready for this?"

"For what?" she asked, toeing off her flats and folding her legs on the couch. "Forwarding your career as a camboy or losing your v-card in front of hundreds, possibly thousands of people?"

He frowned at her. "Great, now I'm thinking about the audience." He sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "I am just worried I'll be bad at it, because I've never had sex before." 

Lydia tipped her head to the side. "I seem to remember a few times you got pulled out into the pool house at Danny's parties."

Stiles huffed at that. "Drunk blow jobs don't count, Lyds."

She looked at him, possibly taking in his agitation or his nerves. She patted his knee. "Well, all those people that watch you on the site like you for who you are, right? You said you have several dedicated viewers."

Stiles nodded, narrowing his eyes a little. "Yeah?"

"Who you are is a spazzy dumbass who flounders through life on situational instincts and a lot of luck."

Stiles clucked his tongue. "Gee, Lydia, please write my obit." He took a drink of his water.

She smiled at him, scooting over and pulling him closer with her no-doubt supernatural strength. He leaned against her bosom with a sulky expression. "What I'm saying is those guys know you," she went on, patting his hair. "And they probably wouldn't have you any other way. They're not interested in you turning into some kind of sex god. They want honesty. And babe, everything you do when you are being you, really you, is honest."

Stiles felt his chin actually wibble. "Tryna make me cry? Because, I will cry all over your blouse. How are you able to say stuff like that, huh?"

She ruffled his hair. "There's a reason I was voted Most Inspirational in high school."

"Ugh," he complained, and she leaned over to leave a shimmery lip gloss mark on his forehead.

After they finished their water, Lydia took her well-earned turn to complain about her life. He sat and listened to her talk about equations and the sheer audacity of most people with penises. Her feet ended up in his lap, so he rubbed them for a while, before she kicked lazily at him and whined about being sleepy and relaxed now, but she still needed to stare at numbers for a couple hours before she could sleep.

She was a good planner, so all her classes started after 11am. Stiles still wasn't sure how she had managed that.

At the door she hugged him and reminded him they had a study session the next day. He blew a raspberry in her neck, and the sting of her punch was lessened by the quacking laugh she had let out.

When he drifted off, he still felt some dread, but he was pretty sure he'd get over it.

 

* * *

 

SweetPrince lived in a pretty sweet apartment complex. It had a  _ receptionist, _ who looked at him like he was very, very lost when he asked what floor the apartment number he had been given was on. The penthouse, he'd been told, because of course it was the same penthouse.

Stiles had never felt unworthy of an elevator before, but it was so clean and nice, and he was so... not. Well, he had showered and scrubbed himself pink, but his shoes were ratty, and his backpack had duct tape on it. At least the elevator music was a normal type of earwig. He tried to get his hair into some kind of niceness while looking into his reflection in the chrome wall, before the doors dinged opened into a little lobby. There was only one door.

He walked slowly to the door, taking deep breaths and flexing his fingers. "Hi, I'm HaloCrosse, but my name is Stiles--no, no, he knows what you look like, don't be dumb." He let out a shuddering breath. "Hi, my name is Stiles, nice to meet you. Handshake. Yes, good, that's like a job interview at all. Ugh." He closed his eyes and shook his eyes. "Just ring the damn bell." He did and rocked back to front on his feet.

The door opened, and there stood SweetPrince in a dressing robe, looking like a living Michelangelo with a square jaw, perfect lips, big doe eyes and precious curly hair. And Stiles had been staring for at least ten seconds. He shook his head and extended his hand. "Hi, I'm Sti--"

"Don't," the guy said, his hand over Stiles's mouth. "I don't want to know your name. You're Halo. I'm Prince." He dropped his hand, which had smelled suspiciously like the jojoba and coconut lotion Lydia used. "Come in, and we'll get started." He turned and left the door open, walking into his apartment.

Which was huge, as Stiles noticed when he walked in and shut the door behind him. The whole place was decked out in awesome. If he leaned, he could see the kitchen, all shiny chrome and beauty. As he followed Prince, he got a view of the living room, which was damn amazing. Huge TV, a sectional couch with armchairs, and literally every gaming console known to man. Stiles kind of wanted to hang with this guy. 

They ended up in the bedroom, which was gigantic but was pretty sparsely decorated. There was a bed bigger than any he'd ever seen, not to mention shaped like a circle. There was a dresser with candles on top--he didn't see any candle sticks though. The candles were just lying there. There were spotlights in all the corners and a few directed right at the bed. On a wheeled stand, there was a computer with two screens and a high tech webcam mounted on top of one of them. They all seemed to be plugged into a mobile power source fixed to the back of the stand.

Stiles dropped his bag on the floor, feeling overwhelmed as Prince checked something on his computer. "Uh, wow, your place is sick."

"Thanks," Prince said, looking over at Stiles for a second before back at his screen. "So you're a total newbie at all of this, right? Never cammed with a partner on another site or anything?"

Stiles shook his head even though the guy wasn't looking at him. "Nope, first time."

Prince turned his eyes toward him again, raking them up and down his form, and he didn't have to say he believed Stiles, because his expression did that for him. He stepped away from the computer. "Okay, well, we'll start by sitting on the bed in front of the camera, fulling clothed. Think of it like an interview phase of the session. The Daddies  _ love _ asking questions, so feel free to embellish. We only have to be on camera for an hour, and we can fill it up however we want." He shrugged. "Unless it's going really well, then we can extend it or whatever."

He looked Stiles up and down again. "I'm sure my Daddies will have all kinds of questions for you since they don't know you. Try and act embarrassed. They really like it when new blood blushes."

Stiles had a feeling he wouldn't have to act at all. 

Prince glanced at the computer. "If you see any names you recognize, try not to be offended or anything."

Oh. "Like the guys that called me ugly?" he asked.

"Yeah," Prince replied lightly, not looking at Stiles.

Pressing his lips together, Stiles held down any resentment. This was business. It wasn't like Prince told those guys to do anything. "Fine," he said, letting out a breath. "Anything else?"

"Just relax!" Prince said, turning and giving him a brilliant smile.  _ Ugh, _ he was so handsome, it wasn't fair. "This is supposed to be fun."

Stiles nodded, thankful his eyelid wasn't twitching.

"I imagine that with such a large group of Daddies, there will be some arguing. And given how they get around this time." Prince couldn't see Stiles's perplexed expression, because he was looking at the screen again. "Look at that viewer count climb. They're piling in." He grinned to himself. "At least feral means impulsive, so we can expect a lot of tokens."

Stiles was still confused, but then Prince stood up straight and untied the front of his robe. He dropped it, and oh god he was  _ naked. _ Stiles forgot pretty much everything that ever happened before right now. 

"So I'm going to wear black," Prince said, going to his dresser and opening the first drawer. "At least a black shirt and black jeans. Daddies really dig tighty whities." He pulled a pair out, but Stiles was staring at his ass. It had dimples. Stiles didn't know what to do with that information. "What color do you usually wear?"

Stiles looked up to see Prince looking at him. "Uh. I'm... I brought some stuff?"

Prince didn't look impressed yet. "What did you bring?" he asked as he put on the underwear. Thank goodness, honestly, that dick was incredibly distracting and also beautiful.

Stiles opened his backpack to show him what he brought. Prince stepped forth to take the bag and dump it out on the bed. The supplies that Lydia gave him came out with his clothes. "Huh," he said, picking up the lube. He looked at Stiles and smiled sharply, making the lube dance in his hand. "That presumptuous of you. Not even going to buy me dinner first?"

Stiles heated up to hot and fast he was lucky he didn't have an aneurysm. "No, I didn't mean to--"

"Shut up, I'm messing with you," Prince said, reaching over to give Stiles a little push on the chest. Was that playfulness? Stiles had to smile a little. "This is good lube though. It's the brand I buy. You might be able to be saved yet."

"Thanks," Stiles said, totally willing to take credit for it, because admitting that his friend gave it to him because he was a dumbass was not an option.

Prince went through his clothes, holding each item up to Stiles before he ultimately decided, "It's dress up time!" and went to his own dresser. Stiles ended up in a pale pink tank top and fashionable ripped blue jeans. It wasn't his Stiles, but Prince knew best.

“After the questions,” Prince was saying as he walked around the room and turned out on the lights. “We’ll see where the mood takes us. I’m open to basically everything, but it’s cool if you’re not.”

“Okay,” Stiles said, immensely relieved.

They sat on the edge of the bed, a minute or so before they were going to go live, and Stiles watched Prince change. He was a no-nonsense kind of guy, but he took on a softer persona, eyes going a little wider, and his lips plushing up a bit. It was strange and fascinating to see. Stiles was a bit amazed.

"Hi, dear Daddies," Prince purred to the camera, and Stiles looked over, a bit starstruck to be honest. He smiled and waved at the screen. "I'm so happy you could join me and my new friend, Halo for our little show." He hooked his hand around Stiles's bicep and leaned his head on his shoulder. "I think it's gonna be so much fun." He tilted his head up, looking at Stiles will those insanely pretty eyes of his. "Don't you think so, Halo?"

Stiles bit his lip, so he didn't do anything stupid like kiss the guy. That wasn't in the plan yet. "Y-yeah," he said, before he cleared his throat.

Prince smiled up at him. "You're shy." He looked to the screen. "I like the shy ones."

**ThickDaddy:** he's kinda cute huh?

**BigBadDad:** Yeah he is.

**TigerBear:** Halo is adorable. You should see him dance and sing.

**ThickDaddy:** does he strip?

Prince swallowed, and it was so quiet that the mic probably wouldn't have picked it up. "Hey, hey now, you're supposed to be asking us the questions, not each other. Don't you want to hear us talk, Daddy?"

**ThickDaddy:** yeah

**ThickDaddy:** do you strip halo?

Stiles rubbed his cheek. "Um, I did once. It was fun." He felt Prince nudge him and realized he could elaborate. "I, uh, it was to  _ Call Me Devil _ by Friends In Tokyo. My friend taught me to, um, sexy dance." And the blushing. He looked down.

"Aw, that's so sweet!" Prince said, hugging Stiles's arm and rubbing his face into his shoulder. "That bashful thing is working for you," he whispered very quietly. "Keep milking it."

**Fistrmn:** Halo, do you and Prince know each other outside of work?

"Uh," Stiles started, before he opened his mouth to tell the truth.

"Halo doesn't know me," Prince said, taking Stiles's hand and squeezing it. "But I have seen him around campus. I've always thought he was really cute." He gave this look of longing that melted Stiles's insides. 

"Oh," Stiles said, blushing even harder. "That's nice to know."

Prince chuckled a little.

The Daddies he didn't know continued asking questions, and Stiles's Daddies pitched in to ask Prince about himself a couple times, but they were relatively silent.

**DaddyShibari:** almost glad to see you didn't break piggy

Stiles had to frown for a second, before he forced a smile when Prince squeezed his wrist. “It takes more than a little bit of teasing to make me run off a cry, mister.”

**DaddyShibari** : and what makes you cry piggy

“Grey’s Anatomy,” Stiles said in the blandest tone possible.

**DaddyShibari:** aww piggy don’t be like that

**TheDuke:** Stop calling him that.

**TheDuke:** He obviously doesn’t appreciate it.

“Yeah, let’s not call my guest names, huh?” Prince cooed sweetly at the screen. “He might leave, and then what would I do? I promised you nice guys a nice show, didn’t I?”

**TheDuke:** Sorry, Halo, dear.

Stiles smiled, even though he knew Duke had nothing to apologize for. “It’s okay, Daddy.”

**Fistrmn:** Are you a virgin, Halo?

Stiles’s brows went up at the suddenness of the question.

**Fistrmn:** Your profile says you’re a virgin.

**ThickDaddy:** is it true

**DaddyShibari:** i bet it’s not

“It is,” Stiles blurted out, feeling just a bit defensive. He looked at Prince, who gave him a deeply unimpressed look. He softened his own expression, trying to mimic what Prince had done, trying to get into character. “It’s true,” he said, trying for a sweet little smile and lowering his eyes.

Prince gave him a squeeze on the hand again, and Stiles took it as reinforcement. 

**ThickDaddy:** really?

**DaddyShibari:** holy shit

**Fistrmn:** Seriously? You haven’t had any sex at all?

**SilverPapa:** Halo wouldn’t lie about something like that.

“I wouldn’t say I haven’t had  _ any _ sex,” Stiles went on, glancing at Prince, who was looking at his face. “I mean, I’m in college, I’d have to be dead not to have any sex at all.” He swallowed at the round of ‘haha’s and ‘lol’s in the chat. “But it was just a couple drunken, messy blowjobs in a pool house at my friend’s parties.” He swallowed, glancing at Prince again. Embellish, Stilinski, he told himself. “I’m not very good, I don’t think. No one’s ever wanted to do anything… um…” He flicked his eyes around and licked his lips. “Penetrative?”

That opened the metaphorical floodgates of probing questions. Even his own Daddies couldn’t keep all of Prince’s Daddies in line as they started asking things like how many times didn’t he jerk off in a day?, what kind of man did he fantasize about?, or what shade of pink was his asshole? Stiles didn’t understand that one.

“Hey, hey,” Prince playfully complained to the camera. “Leave some for me, will you?”

Stiles turned to Prince, completely entranced by the look he was giving him. He was so handsome, the type of guy that Stiles would never have a chance with ever. But here he was, leaning in to kiss Stiles. So Stiles kissed back, trying to tilt his head to accommodate, but Prince tilted the same way, and they bumped noses.

Stiles laughed a little, a bit of a delirious giggle, but the next time he did better, going the right direction, so they could kiss. He was okay at kissing, he thought, at least he was pretty sure, but Prince was taking charge here. What was the romance novel thing he saw that always made him roll his eyes? Tongues battling for dominance? Well his tongue was thoroughly beat here.

He moaned into Prince's mouth, unable to help himself, and reached forward to touch the silky cotton of his painted on t-shirt. It was soft. He bet Prince was soft too, though he had amazingly sculpted abs, abs like a pan of a dozen fresh baked rolls. 

What. 

Maybe he should write romance novels.

Prince pulled back, and god his lips were sinfully plump. Were Stiles's lips plump too? He bit at them like that helped at all. Prince was taking off his shirt, revealing skin and pink nipples, and was he allowed to touch?

"Like what you see?" Prince asked in a kind of purring way, and Stiles bobbed his head in a nod. Prince looked at the camera, at the chat window. "So do they. Take off your shirt." He took the hem of up, pulling it up and other Stiles's head. "Hm." He touched Stiles's chest. "I like your moles."

Stiles sucked in his stomach when Prince pressed his hand against it. "Thanks, I like your..." He swept his gaze over Prince, mouth working without sound coming out. "I like all your things."

Prince chuckled, before he glanced at the screen again. Then he slid close, their lips almost touching. "You're doing great. Keep playing dumb." 

Stiles frowned into their next kiss, unsure exactly how to react to that. Did he say he wasn't playing and inadvertently call himself dumb? Or did he say he wasn't dumb and then accidentally say he wasn't being genuine? Too much of his blood was in his dick for thinking.

Prince noticed too, his thigh rubbing over Stiles's cock and making him moan into his mouth. "You're responsive," he said, sounding sweet and catty for their audience. "Do you want me to take these off, huh?" He hooked two fingers in the waistband of the jeans Stiles was wearing and tugged. 

Stiles rolled his bottom lip through his teeth and swallowed hard, before he nodded. Why not? He was about to have sex with a really, really hot guy who would definitely know what he was doing. He was ready for this. He'd brought lube and stuff.

Prince grinned, almost catlike--or like some other predator--and slid his front half down Stiles's chest so his ass was in the air and his face was right next to Stiles's groin.  _ Jesus. _ "I wonder what kind of monster he has hiding in here?" he asked the camera, popping the button on the jeans as Stiles blushed so much he might burst. 

_ Look at me, _ Stiles wanted to say.

"I bet it's a big one. Long, thick." Prince licked his upper lip slowly from edge to edge then showed his teeth, the sound of the zipper loud in Stiles's ears. "Tasty."

_ Please look at me, _ his mind whined as he stayed silent.

"Can't wait to find out," Prince purred, taking hold of the flaps of Stiles's jeans.

"Wait," Stiles stuttered out, grabbing the Prince's hands and giving him a look that he hoped wasn't too scared.

Prince stared back a minute, lips going into a hard line, before he forced his expression soft again and hummed. "Aw, Halo, are you shy?" he asked, rubbing his thumbs into the hollows of Stiles's hipbones. "That's okay. You just need to warm up to the idea of having your dick in my mouth."

_ Christ. _

Prince moved, sliding into Stiles's lap and leaning against his chest. It was weird, and Stiles steadied his hands to hold them both up. "How about you just watch for now?" Prince said to him, undoing the front of his own pants and reaching in. He put his cheek against Stiles's chest and let out this little moan.

Stiles watched Prince's hand, his fingers disappearing to the knuckles a back as he rubbed the front of his little white underwear. Over and over. He couldn't look away, couldn't think about anything else but Prince leaning against his chest between his legs. The little noises he made, not wanton moans but loud enough to be heard by the audience, surely. 

Prince tipped his head up, looking perfectly beautiful with his plush lips parted and his eyelids lowered, eyes on Stiles's face. Stiles had the need to kiss him, but the moment he got the nerve, Prince averted his gaze, looking back at the screen.

That was fine. He'd kiss him later.

Prince moved his hand out of his pants, leaving tinted briefs in the V of his fly. "Who thinks I should show him more?" he asked the camera, before he smiled as several pings signaled the opinions of the Daddies.

Stiles would have preferred to be asked directly, but hey they were putting on a show here. He didn't really know the etiquette of having two baby boys in one place. Yeah. He could deal with this.

Prince grabbed the top of his painted on black pants and shimmied out of them, lifting them in front of the camera and letting them drop slowly off his long fingers. Gah, that was probably such a teasing sight from that angle. There was something just plain dirty about all that skin in sculpted abs, jutting hips and strong thighs only broken up by little white undies. 

Stiles swallowed hard.

"Like what you see, hm?" Prince asked, smiling up at Stiles as his thumb traced the hem of his undies. At Stiles's nod, Prince hooked the hem and pushed it down, pulling out his dick with his other hand.

Jeez, it was a hell of a sight when it was hard. Stiles wanted to touch it, wanted to feel its heat in his palm, wanted to rub his thumb through the sticky precome at the tip. Was he allowed to do that? To take initiative? Or did he have to wait for a sign? Would Prince give him a sign, or would he just keep slowly stroking his dick like that?

Christ.

Prince wasn't looking at him again, instead facing the camera, pink lips parted as he breathed out softly with each movement of his hand. He was taking his time with it, just slow up and down motions. 

Stiles had to wonder if Prince would like a bit of a wrist twist at the head and squeeze at the base. He wanted to find out, wanted to know what Prince liked. But he couldn't reach like this, not with Prince leaning on him. So he shifted his weight on his hand and tried to change the scene by catching Prince under the chin and lifting his face to a kiss.

He wanted it to be passionate, wanted it to be heated, a thing they could both fall into. But Prince barely participated. "You're blocking the view," Prince told him in a low, flat whisper, and Stiles opened his eyes to find annoyance on his face. "Move."

Stiles felt his chin do an embarrassing wibble, but move he did. He moved out of the way so fast that he almost vaulted off the bed, dropping Prince to the covers as he clamored away. He couldn't do this.

"Halo?" Prince called out, a touch of concerned playfulness there.

But Stiles knew it was an act. He got his stuff as fast as he could and fled from the apartment as fast as he could. "Halo!" he heard Prince yell after him once he was out the door, letting it close by itself as he made a break for the elevator.

He could feel his breathing going erratic once he was in the elevator, and he did up his jeans--shit, these were Prince's jeans--and pulled on a shirt in jerky motions, not caring if it was on forwards or backwards. He wanted to be clothed, to be covered, to stop being so exposed. He felt raw, strange, even though he hadn't taken much off. He had wanted to, had wanted to bare everything to Prince and have everything bared to him in return. But instead he felt used, just an extra in the scene, something to recline against, like a fucking prop. 

"God," Stiles mumbled, hand over his eyes when he finally reached the end of his elevator ride and stepped out, shrugging his backpack onto his shoulders and wishing his breathing would just slow down. "Stupid, stupid." He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a moment to just stop when he left the building. 

"Fuck." He swallowed over again, his eyes starting to sting. He turned and started walking. He wanted to get home, wanted to stop feeling so stupid and pathetic for thinking this was anything other than what it was. It was sex work, plain and simple. Customer service. It wasn't an opportunity for him to find someone that might care for him a bit and relieve him of his virginity.

That probably wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

He felt a pulsing vibration against his back and stopped, sniffing and wiping at his leaking nose as he dug out his phone and looked at the front. He didn't recognize the number, but he knew the area code. Maybe one of his friends got a new phone. He put it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Are you alright, Halo?" asked a voice he didn't know.

Stiles blinked, looking down at his ratting shoes as he kept walking. "Who is this?"

A sigh came across the line. "Your boss," the voice said, and Stiles stopped dead in his tracks. KingDaddy? "I'm sorry. I know it's unorthodox to dig up your phone number from your employee records, but... You left the show so suddenly."

Stiles couldn't control his wobbling bottom lip. "I'm sorry," he said, ending in a hiccup.

"Whatever for?"

Pushing the tears from his lashes with his fingers, Stiles shook his head. "I messed up your big event. You had advertising and everything. I know you have a lot invested in it..."

"I'm not worried about that," KingDaddy told him gently. "I'm worried about you. Before any of this started, I did say that your well-being is more important."

Stiles stopped at a crosswalk, sniffing loudly. "I'm fine, just rattled. I didn't... I didn't know that..." He let out a sigh. "I'm just gonna go home and play a bad game or watch a movie with explosions. Something that doesn't require me to think about anything."

"Are you driving?"

"Nah, my Roscoe's in the shop. I walked." Maybe he should have borrowed Scott's bike when he'd offered. 

"How far is the walk?"

"A couple miles?" Stiles said, looking up at the street sign to see how far he'd made it already. He frowned, because he didn't recognize the name. He looked around and felt a little panicked, because he didn't recognize anything. He sagged. "Shit. I went the wrong direction. I'm so stupid. I don't know where I am.  _ Go me." _ He looked around and tried to figure out which way he'd come from.

"Tell me the cross-street you're at," KingDaddy said, using a soothing voice that Stiles wanted to wrap around himself like a blanket. "I'll call you a ride."

Stiles gave him the street names and leaned against the crosswalk pole. "You don't have to do that," he said, knowing it was kind of silly to need his boss to call him an Uber or whatever.

"Don't worry, Halo," KingDaddy said. "I don't do anything unless I want to."

Stiles had to let out a little laugh at that. It must have been nice to know what you wanted all the time.

"Just stay there, okay? Your ride's on the way."

"That was fast." Stiles wanted to sit. Standing still seemed to make the nervous energy drain out of him by gallons. He knew if he sat on the sidewalk he might need help getting up.

"I am an excellent multitasker," KingDaddy told him. "The car is a red mini coup." He gave him the license plate and everything.

"Thanks," Stiles said with a tired sigh.

"Of course. I take care of my baby boys, remember?"

Stiles swallowed, smiling to himself. It sounded even better when he said it.

"Thank you," Stiles said softly, rubbing the palm of his hand against his eye.

It didn't take long before said mini coup appeared on the road, slowing as it approached him. He blinked at its headlights, because they had eyelashes. "Ride's here," he said into the phone, already distracted.

"Have a better night, Halo," his boss told him, before he hung up.

Stiles stuffed his phone into his bag as the car pulled up to the curb, the passenger window going down so Stiles could look in. He blinked in surprise at the driver.

"Hey, cutie pie, going my direction?" the blonde woman asked, flashing him a bright smile.

"Ms Reyes?" he asked, before he just let his mouth hang open.

"Call me Erica, Stiles," she replied, leaning over and opening the door for him.

"Oh, okay," Stiles said, sidling in and putting his bag in his lap. He accepted the GPS when it was handed to him, tapping in his address before putting it in the holder.

"I would be totally lost without that thing," Erica said, checking her mirrors before getting back on the road. "I've gone in circles before. It's very embarrassing. I should hardly be allowed on the road."

Stiles bit his lip. "How bad is it?"

Erica glanced at him then back at the road. "What do you mean?"

"What did the Daddies do after I left? Was it bad?"

Erica let out a long sigh. "Well, it wasn't good. All the Daddies from your channel left too, which made Isaac's Daddies mad."

"His name is Isaac?" Stiles asked, looking at her.

Erica blew out a huff. "I am not surprised he didn't tell you his damn name."

"Am I in trouble? Am I fired?" Stiles had to ask, twisting the straps of his backpack in his hands.

"No, no, you're not fired," Erica told him.

"But I'm in trouble?" What kind of punishment would he face for this?

"Not... Not with the boss, but..." Erica slid her fingers through her blond waves, then pulled at the end of a lock. "I imagine you'll start getting harassed again."

"Great," Stiles said, looking out the window.

"You know about locking your channel, right?"

"Yeah." Stiles let his forward thunk forward against the grass. 

"I'd suggest that's what you do, at least for a while, until everything blows over."

Stiles closed his eyes and wondered if he should just closed his account and be done with it. He didn't want to end up in any situation in which he'd feel like this again. He just wanted to be seen, to be wanted, but not as a commodity. 

"Do you want food?" Erica asked as they sat at a light, and Stiles looked at her. "I want to eat a lot of Taco Bell then drive around with the windows down so my boyfriend doesn't know."

Stiles leaned back. "Is your boyfriend...?"

"Mr Boyd? Yup!" Erica popped the P on the end.

"What's his first name?"

"Nobody gets to call him by his first name but me," Erica told him, flashing a grin as he turned and headed toward the street of fast food joints near the campus. It was insanely popular with the students, because none of them closed their drive-thru until 2am.

Stiles was prone to KFC when he was studying.

They drove around the Taco Bell and ate their food in the parking lot. Stiles was appreciative for the five tacos with their Doritos cheese flavored shells that Erica had refused to let him pay for. He was also appreciative that she didn't try to get him to open up about his melt down. She dropped sour cream into her cleavage and slapped his arm when he burst out laughing.

"Sometimes my boobs eat more than I do," she told him, scooping the glob onto her finger and sticking it in her mouth.

As she was driving him toward his campus apartment, Stiles felt much better. Then his mind decided to remind him of a thought he'd set aside earlier. "Hey, uh..." Erica glanced at him then back at the road, a signal to go on. "Isaac said something about the Daddies being feral..."

Erica's eyes went a touch wider, before she rubbed her finger under her nose. Was that a nervous twitch?

"What did he mean?" He watched her face change, going through a bit of a journey, and he didn't know what that meant. Did she know and just didn't want to tell him, or did she not know and was trying to figure it out herself.

"Uh..." She started, sounding truly hesitant for the first time since he'd met her. "You should ask the boss. He'd be able to explain it better than me." He rubbed the underside of her nose again, before she scrunched it like a cat.

"Okay..." He squinted at her a little, before he looked at the road. This was all so weird.

When they reached the campus, she pulled into the parking lot of his apartment complex and pulled him into a tight hug that made him huff. She was small, but she had a hell of a grip. "Thanks, Erica," he told her, offering as warm a smile as her could.

"Your Daddies were in your channel when I left to pick you up. They might still be there, waiting to see you," she said, trying to smooth down his hair. "Even if you're not up to seeing them, know they're there to support you."

Stiles wasn't sure if he was ready to log back on or not, but it made him feel a bit better that his Daddies were worrying over him. "Thank you." He pulled his bag to his chest and got out of the car, heading up to his place.

First thing was first, he needed a damn shower. His skin felt weird, too exposed still. He'd take a shower and then see if he was okay enough to talk to his Daddies. He didn't want them to be disappointed, and if they were, if they criticized him for being afraid, he'd just never log on again.

The hot water helped him relax, gave him an excuse to cry because his face was already hot and wet, so what were a few tears? He scrubbed himself pink with his loufa, and his bathroom was a cloud of steam when he was done. He looked for his coziest pajamas, maybe some fuzzy pants if he had them. Then he found a Hot Topic bag in the back of his closet and smiled at the contents. It was a union suit, and it was a TARDIS. 

Perfect.

He sat on his bed and looked at his laptop, taking in a deep breath and letting it out through his nose, before he pulled it closer and brought up the Best Boy website. He could at least say hi to his Daddies and let them know he was okay. They would like that, because they were so protective of him anyway. He liked that.

Erica had been right about the Daddies hanging out in his channel. They weren't saying anything, just lingering there. He took a few breaths rubbed his fingers through his damp hair, put up his hood, put it back down, and prepared himself before hitting the button to go live. He watched the countdown and tried to put on a smile, but he ultimately failed, so he knew he was a sad sight when the camera came on.

**BigPaw:** halo!

**Howl4Me:** Sweetheart, are you okay?

**CrystalProphet:** you look so sad

**Padre9in:** what happened? did you get scared?

Stiles gave a slow shrug. "Yeah. I got... I couldn't do it. I'm sorry." His brow wrinkled. "I know you guys wanted a show. I'm sorry for the disappointment."

**TigerBear:** You are never a disappointment.

**Padre9in:** you werent ready and thats okay

**TigerBear:** No one wants you to do anything that you're not ready for.

Stiles pressed his lips together. He didn't know if he deserved them being so kind, not after he had promised them. He almost wanted them to be upset with him, because then he wouldn't feel like he had a reason to keep doing this. He shook his head, sighing. "The thing is, I was ready. I was  _ so _ ready. I've been ready for years, but... I really thought Prince and I could..." He looked down at his hands.

**BigPaw:** what?

**TheDuke:** What's wrong, darling?

Stiles lifted and dropped his shoulder, before he slid his fingers through his hair again, holding onto the strands. "He didn't care that I was there," he said, feeling emotion clog his throat and put a sting in his eyes. "He just kept looking at the camera, and I--I wanted was for him to look at me, to be  _ with _ me. But all he cared about was putting on a show, and I was just there to lend a helping hand... like a sex toy."

**TheDuke:** Dear heart.

Stiles covered his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes with the heels hard enough he saw white. "I feel incredibly stupid for going into that--I dunno--thinking it was something it wasn't. It's just business." He dropped his hands and picked at the warm blue legs of his union suit. "We could have still had sex, but... When I do that, I want to be with someone because they want to be with me."

Several of his Daddies expressed concern and sympathy, and he tried to smile for them, but he couldn't quite manage it. "I think I'm gonna go to bed. I just, I need to sleep this off, I think. I just wanted to let you guys know I got home and stuff."

The farewells his Daddies offered as they left were kind, insuring him they would return on his next scheduled session. They wished him sweet dreams, and he hoped his dreams featured anything but Prince and his rude viewers.

**SilverPapa:** I'm sorry to bring it up, but you need to know that Prince's Daddies were really upset, claiming your Daddies didn’t contribute enough tokens before leaving.

Stiles nodded, rubbing his fingers together. "Yeah, I figured they would be. I'm going to lock my channel in a minute."

**SilverPapa:** That's good. Good night, Halo.

"Night, Papa," he said in return, and SilverPapa, leaving only TigerBear in the channel. "You haven't said anything in a bit. Something on your mind?" he asked, not wanting to close the channel just yet.

**TigerBear:** Could I convince you to open your private messages?

**TigerBear:** There's a setting that allows only your loyal viewers to message you.

Stiles bit his lips together. "I don't... I dunno... Maybe?"

**TigerBear:** I just wanted to see if we can talk. You don't have to have your cam up for it.

Stiles chewed his lip. That sounded nice. He nodded and closed the channel, before he went to his private message settings. He hit the buttons that would give him the most privacy and waited. Almost immediately the dancing PM envelope appeared in the corner of his screen. He clicked on it.

_ TigerBear has entered the chat... _

**TigerBear:** Hello, Halo. My name is Horacio.

Stiles's eyes went a little wide at that.

**TigerBear:** I'm California born and raised. I live about an hour away from Berkeley campus.

**TigerBear:** I was hoping for a chance to show you that you are wanted for who you are.

**TigerBear:** Would you like to go on a date with me?

Stiles didn’t know what to feel, other than a lot of  _ whaaaaat _ . It was nice that Tig--Horacio was focusing on him, offering him what he didn’t have, which was attention. But did he want to take a chance again? Was he so lonely that he would accept a date from a guy he did know at all? Didn’t know what he looked like, didn’t know what he did for a living, hadn’t even spoken to on the phone.

Well… Stiles was quite lonely.

He put his hands to the keyboard.

**HaloCrosse:** Yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For everyone not wanting to dig through previous comments;  
> TheDuke = Deucalion  
> SilverPapa = Chris Argent  
> KingDaddy = Peter  
> SweetPrince = Isaac Lahey  
> Everyone else is an OC. :D
> 
> If I am failing to brain at your comment and can't think of anything to say, I will leave a ♥. Think of it as an author kudos. :D
> 
> Please don't ask me to update faster. I'm currently fostering a pair of hurricane newborn kittens, which means feedings every three hours and very little sleep. Not sure while I'll get much writing in, but I will try to update as soon as I can.
> 
> 09/05/2017 Update - So we got about four inches of water in our house, and half our lives is in a giant garbage pile on the front lawn. Our cars are completely toast but we got a payout to replace them. Right now I am just too tired to work on this story. I am doing prompts on Tumblr as stress relief. Check those out. ♡
> 
> For those of you asking about the foster kittens; they are doing well. Here are some pictures! They just opened their eyes. :D  
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/154706275@N05/36913143881/in/dateposted-public/)[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/154706275@N05/36866321586/in/dateposted-public/)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see! :D
> 
> Explanation for absence in end notes.

**KingDaddy:** How are things, Halo? Are you feeling better since what happened with Prince?

**KingDaddy:** Perhaps “better” isn’t the word I’m looking for here.

**HaloCrosse:** I’m not freaking out as much, if that’s what you’re after?

**KingDaddy:** Certainly better than freaking out a lot.

**KingDaddy:** But really, are you alright? Were you able to talk to Ms Reyes or your Daddies?

**HaloCrosse:** Yeah. Erica’s great. She bought me tacos and gave me advice on how to deal with the fallout of the whole thing with Isaac.

**KingDaddy:** First names, hm? She must like you.

**HaloCrosse:** I think so. Thanks for sending in the cavalry, btw. I think I would have started crying in an Uber.

**KingDaddy:** I thought you would appreciate a familiar face. Erica tends to mother people.

**HaloCrosse:** It was nice being able to talk to her. None of my friends would really understand if I told them.

**KingDaddy:** Understandable. Did you take any actions with your channel?

**HaloCrosse:** Yeah, I locked it. My Daddies are supportive.

**KingDaddy:** That’s good. If you ever want to try a joint show again, just let one of us know, and we’ll try to set something up.

**HaloCrosse:** Actually, I think I’m just going to stick with what I have.

**KingDaddy:** Oh?

**HaloCrosse:** Yeah. I mean, I get enough in tokens now that I don’t know what to do with myself. I like the Daddies I’ve got.

**KingDaddy:** That’s good.

**HaloCrosse:** It doesn’t mess with your web traffic or anything, right? You won’t lose any money?

**KingDaddy:** No. It’ll all be just fine.

**HaloCrosse:** Good.

Stiles heaved a sigh of relief, sinking back against his pillows. He’d been worried for a hot second that he’d get fired or something. He worried about everything, all the time, so he couldn’t be blamed.

**KingDaddy:** I imagine it’s all just as well. Doing a joint-show can be a distraction.

**HaloCrosse:** Oh… Yeah…

**KingDaddy:** Something on your mind?

Stiles chewed his lip, scratching in fingernail in light, rapid circles across one of his arrow keys. He probably should have consulted someone about this before he went and made a decision, but he couldn't take it back. He hoped his boss wouldn't be disappointed. 

**HaloCrosse:** TigerBear asked me out on a date.

**KingDaddy:** Ah. And you said?

**HaloCrosse:** I said yes.

**KingDaddy:** I see.

**HaloCrosse:** Yeah.

Welp, this was awkward. Normally his boss was playful. He never responded with so few words. Was he disappointed? Oh god, was he worrying about some kind of legal scandal?

**HaloCrosse:** It's not prostitution, is it?

**KingDaddy:** Well, are you planning on having sex with him for money?

**HaloCrosse:** No.

**KingDaddy:** Then no, it's not prostitution.

**HaloCrosse:** Okay, good.

**KingDaddy:** Where are you going?

**HaloCrosse:** A cafe in a hotel with a haunted garden in the back.

**KingDaddy:** What are his opinions on that?

**HaloCrosse:** "That's cute."

**KingDaddy:** Hm.

**HaloCrosse:** Yeah. It's tomorrow. Lunch. Late lunch.

**KingDaddy:** Well. That's all good news, I suppose.

**KingDaddy:** I should leave you to prepare.

**HaloCrosse:** Okay.

**KingDaddy:** I hope you have fun, Halo.

Stiles sighed, about to say his own farewell, but then he had a sudden flash through his mind of Erica telling him to talk to the boss. His hands flew to the keyboard so fast he typed a bunch of letters accidentally and had to erase them.

**HaloCrosse:** I have a question!

**KingDaddy:** Yes, Halo?

**HaloCrosse:** So, Isaac said some stuff about the Daddies getting feral sometimes? I didn't know what he meant, so I asked Erica, and she got all quiet then told me to ask you.

**HaloCrosse:** So.

**HaloCrosse:** This is me asking you.

**KingDaddy:** What precisely are you asking me?

**HaloCrosse:** Something like how the Daddies get feral or whatever "around this time?" I have no idea what he means.

**KingDaddy:** Ah. Well, Isaac certainly has a loose tongue.

**HaloCrosse:** What?

Stiles sat there staring at the screen, waiting for his boss to respond, but there was no indication he was typing for a good few minutes. Then a link to Amazon popped up on the screen.

**KingDaddy:** If you want answers, this book has them.

Stiles clicked the link and read the title. " _ The Modern Day Bestiary _ ..." He flicked his eyes around and felt like there was definitely something he was missing here. He went back to the chat window.

**HaloCrosse:** Is this some kind of fetish thing?

**KingDaddy:** Could be.

**HaloCrosse:** That's so cryptic.

**KingDaddy:** Goodnight, Halo. :)

_ KingDaddy has left the channel... _

Stiles squinted at the screen. "What."

 

* * *

 

Stiles was lying in his bed watching a show that was much like a very violent Doctor Who when his phone buzzed next to him. He paused as Elijah Wood's character yelled "What the fuck is going on?!" for the tenth time and picked up his phone, seeing Lydia's Discord name. He hissed a curse, because he'd forgotten he was supposed to text her once he was back from Isaac's. Oops.

**AcuteMiss:** Hey, spazoid, how did things go?

**the_stiles:** Bad. Very bad.

**AcuteMiss:** How bad is very bad?

**the_stiles:** I got scared and peaced out.

**AcuteMiss:** Aww. :(

**the_stiles:** Yeah. I left all the stuff you gave me over there too.

**AcuteMiss:** Aw, hon.

**the_stiles:** I did accidentally steal a pair of his pants though.

**the_stiles:** So. :(

**AcuteMiss:** I’m sorry.

**the_stiles:** Yeah…

**AcuteMiss:** Want me to round up the kids and way too much ice cream and come over?

**the_stiles:** I dunno if I’m up for that.

**AcuteMiss:** We can marathon some Star Wars. No prequels.

**the_stiles:** I love you.

**AcuteMiss:** I know. ;)

Stiles had to let out a loud laugh. He loved his friends. He didn’t know if Lydia had been a Star Wars nerd before they’d watched the movies together, but he liked to think he dragged her into it. She had never told him any different. 

A half an hour later or so, Lydia showed up with Scott and Kira and a reusable hot/cold bag full of ice cream. Of all the types, Stiles went right for the rainbow sherbet and fled to the couch to keep it to himself. Lydia had some fancy coconut and vanilla bean thing with almond shavings when she sat down on the couch next to him. Scott and Kira were sharing a half gallon of rocky road, and that thing was not going to make it back to the kitchen.

They made it through A New Hope without speaking to each other as at all, though they had managed to make a pile on the couch at one point. Scott was at the bottom, because he was the sturdiest and would complain the least. Kira was curled in his lap with her arm around Lydia's shoulders. Lydia had her legs over Stiles's lap as he used her chest as a pillow and got his hair and neck petted by both girls. Scott would have probably petted him too if his arm could contort in that direction.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Lydia asked as the credits rolled. The next movie was queued up, so they could remain the four-person pretzel they were for now.

Stiles just made a low, unhappy noise.

Lydia patted his head. "Everything's okay now, right?"

"Yeah," Stiles said into her boobs.

"Perhaps it's for the best?" Kira asked.

"How do you mean?" was Stiles's question as he managed to lift his head enough to look at her.

"Well, losing your virginity on camera... it's not ideal, is it? Especially with someone you don't know, let alone even like?"

Oh. Right. They had no idea. "Not ideal, no."

"Maybe you can find someone else? Around here? You didn't plan on having sex be part of the whole thing in the beginning, right?" Kira went on.

"No," Stiles said, sinking down again, so he didn't have to look at her.

"Oh! There's a really nice guy in my philosophy class, who's gay? I know, because all his piercings are rainbow. He has blue hair too. Unrelated." Kira hummed, no doubt already planning their first meeting and ultimately their wedding.

"Um, actually," Stiles said before she could get too far. He wiggled away enough that he could sit up and not be talking to Lydia's cleavage. They looked at him, curiosity written all over their faces. Though, Lydia looked a bit suspicious too. "Uh... I have a date tomorrow?" He hadn't meant that to come out like a question, but he was so uncertain of what their reactions would be.

"Stiles, that's great!" Kira blurted out immediately.

"With whom?" Lydia asked after her small scream.

Stiles tried to think of a way that he could play this off as someone that had just happened, but he didn't want to lie. He drew in a breath and blew it out through his lips, making them vibrate. "One of my viewers."

Silence. Shock and awe. Judgment. Worry. 

Stiles sighed and held up his hand when all three of them opened their mouths to talk at once. "Don't. I know what I'm doing. His name is Horacio. We’re both taking taxis. He's not going to know where I live. I'm not getting in his car. We're going to a public place in daylight." He lowered his hand. They had all shut their mouths. "Questions?"

Lydia narrowed her eyes. "I'm sending you a safety text at four. If you don't answer in fifteen minutes, I'm calling the police."

"That... was not a question," Stiles told her.

Lydia kept her eyes in a squint. "Do you want me to go to the same place and pretend not to know you? I can just sit there and play on my phone or something."

"No,  _ Mom _ , I'll be fine, thanks."

"What does your boss think about you dating your clients?" Kira asked.

Stiles pressed his lips in a line, thinking on it. "He doesn't seem to mind? I don't know if he has an opinion either way." His boss had gotten kind of distant when Stiles had told him, but he was probably just worried about his business. He had insured Stiles that his decisions wouldn't affect it, but... Stiles wasn't so sure now that he was thinking about it.

"You're not going to run away with some random guy, are you?" Scott teased, pulling Stiles out of his thoughts.

"Ha, no, and leave you guys all alone? I mean, Lydia and Kira got this, but you would die without me, bro," Stiles informed him, sticking out his tongue.

"Hey!" Scott complained, trying to swat at him and almost dumping Kira on the floor. He managed to catch her thought and then spent two minutes apologizing to her.

"Gross," was Lydia's opinion. "Next movie!"

 

* * *

 

Stiles stuck his tongue out at his mirror. He was dissatisfied, again, with the outfit he'd chosen for his date. What even was he supposed to wear to a lunch date at a haunted hotel that ended in traipsing around a graveyard in search of ghosts? The only thing he had squared away were his boots.

With a petulant sigh, he decided to call Lydia. He knew she was just waiting for him to ring her up and ask advice, even if she'd pretend to be totally casual about it. She liked running his life. It was her favorite hobby now that she's grown out of crushing hopes and dreams.

When he reached for his phone, the screen lit up before he could even touch it, showing a picture of him and his dad, taken right before he left for college. (His dad had claimed the sun in his eyes had been what was making them water.) Uh oh, it was Friday, wasn't it? Dad phone call day. He picked it up, hit the green button and put it to his ear.

"Hey, hey, Pops, what's shakin'?" he asked, before he tried to get his hair to do anything than what it was trying to do right then.

His dad laughed a little in his ear. "Not a lot, kiddo. How're you? How's school?" 

"I am maintaining my scholarship, and I even have a social life," Stiles said, baring his teeth at the mirror and considering whether or not he should brush them for a third time. "So as good as can be expected."

"Good, good," his dad said, and Stiles could just hear him nodding sagely over the line. "But when you say social life... Do you also mean your love life?"

Stiles let out the loudest sigh in the world. "Are you cupid now? I dunno if you could pull off the bow and arrow and diaper combo, Pops."

"No, that would take a more confident man than me," his dad agreed. "But I mean it, bud. You should at least experience a little romance while you're young and reckless. Now this deputy of mine--"

"No!" Stiles whined, rubbing his face. "No, no, Dad, a thousand times, no. I'm not gonna date your spy."

"Well you could find someone who isn't a spy..."

Stiles looked into the mirror and swallowed. "I've actually got a late lunch/early dinner date today."

"Who what now?" his Dad asked, sounding completely shocked.

Rolling his eyes, Stiles clucked his tongue. "I can get dates without your intervention, Dad."

"I'll believe it when you bring someone home..." his Dad grumbled. "What's his name? What's he like? What's his social security number?"

"Oh my lord," Stiles said in between giggles. "His name is Horacio. He's very nice, but he doesn't put up with my shit. He doesn't mind that I'm a total dork." Stiles turned to check out his butt in these pants again. "I don't know his social security number, but I'll see about pick-pocketing him for his driver's license."

His dad chuckled. "That's my boy. I'm glad you're going out. He sounds like a decent kid."

Yes. Kid. Sure.

"Yeah, he is," Stiles said, toying with one of his buttons.

"He in one of your classes?"

"No, we met online." Stiles wasn't sure how much he could say without turning it into an outright lie. He didn't want to tell his dad that he had sugar daddies yet. Didn't want to tell him they made him feel special and wanted and interesting. He wasn't ready. "He only lives like an hour away though."

"Ah, okay, that's good. I was worried you were meeting some forty-year-old man from across the country."

"Haha, no, he's not from across the country," Stiles said, biting his thumb nail. It was highly likely that Horacio was in his forties though.

"Good. Is your date soon?"

"Yeah, I've been trying to pick out an outfit for ages."

"Wear something blue."

Stiles stared at the mirror, squinting. "Blue?"

"It's a good color on you, kiddo. But I can tell you that once you start talking, he's not gonna care what you have on. He won't be able to stop looking at you."

Stiles hid his smile in his hand. "You're so schmoopy."

"I don’t know what that is, but I can guess. Go get ready for your damn date, kid."

"Will do."

"Love you."

"Love you too, old man."

Stiles wore the baby blue button down that Kira had given him for his birthday, grabbed his camera and headed to the door. There was a box sitting just outside, and he realized it must have been that book KingDaddy told him about. He pushed it into his apartment with his foot, before he locked the door and left.

 

* * *

 

When Stiles reached the cafe, he realized he was at a total disadvantage. He had absolutely no idea at all what Horacio looked like. They hadn't talked about it. Was Horacio a Spanish name? (Was that racist to think? Oh god.)

"Halo?" 

Stiles looked toward the sound of the voice and found a man sitting at the small corner table about ten feet away. He was immaculately dressed in a smart suit jacket, soft looking shirt and pressed dark jeans. He had his legs crossed, pant leg riding up to show his ankle and where his short sock peeked out of his expensive loafer. 

Not only a snappy dresser, he was painfully handsome. His hair was styled so no hair was out of place, eyebrows finely shaped, and jaw cleanly shaven. His eyes were the kind of dark brown that could look black in the dim lighting. When he smiled, his teeth were perfectly straight and white. He screamed beauty and luxury.

"Hi," Stiles finally managed as Horacio stood, graceful and fluid like a predator animal. Stiles stepped toward him, feeling like he was looking up at him even though they seemed to be the same height.

"You're even more precious in person," Horacio said, smiling still as he stood in front of Stiles. "May I?" he asked, spreading his arms for a hug.

"Oh sure," Stiles stuttered, tilting forward into it and feeling kind of stupid. Horacio's arms came around his shoulders as Stiles's went around his waist. It was weird, but not bad, and thankfully Horacio pulled back before it got painfully awkward.

"I feel like I know you so well already," Horacio said as he stepped to the side and pulled out the chair for Stiles. It took a second of incomprehension, before Stiles sat and let himself be scooted forward a little. "Since I have been tuning into your channel for months now," Horacio went on, sitting back down. "Though I don't yet know your name."

Stiles licked his lips. "It's Stiles," he said, setting his messenger bag on the floor between his feet. At Horacio's puzzled expression, he smiled. "It's a nickname. My real name is complicated Polish."

"You don't say?" Horacio mused, tipping his head. "Tell me, perhaps I will get it."

"Sobiesław," Stiles said, grinning.

Horacio seemed to ponder that a moment. "Alright, perhaps not. Stiles is a very cute name though. It suits you."

Stiles wondered if he was blushing, because his face was warm. "Thanks." He picked up the small menu and hid behind it as best he could without being obvious.

He was so worried he was going to embarrass himself.

"So, you know everything about me, but I don't really know anything about you," Stiles said as he wondered how well lobster would pair with cheese covered curly fries. He looked at Horacio over his menu. "What do you do for a living?"

"Corporate real estate," Horacio said mildly, looking over the menu. He tilted his gaze up and smiled. "It's really very boring, but it does pay the bills."

Stiles had to wonder what kind of bills Horacio had. Dry cleaning bill out the wazoo, for sure. A big car note if he hadn't paid it off already. Cleaning lady, probably. Gardener. Maybe he lived in a high rise apartment with a great view though. Of course there was the matter of paying for tokens every month.

Was Stiles the only baby boy that had Horacio's Loyalty Token?

"Would you like me to order for you?" Horacio asked.

Stiles's was pulled out of his deep thoughts and looked at him quizzically. "Uh?"

"It's common practice," Horacio explained gently, laying his menu down. "For a Daddy to make everyday decisions for his baby. We don't have to, of course, as we haven't discussed any terms yet. I was merely making a suggestion."

Stiles rubbed his thumbs up and down the laminated menu. "That-That sounds okay. I mean, I know I want curly fries with an unholy amount of cheese, but I don't know what I want with it."

Horacio's smile was sweet and amused. "Alright, I'll decide for you, babe." He lifted a hand to flag down a server.

_ Babe. _ Stiles felt his face grow hot, feeling embarrassed and dizzy with it. Sure, he'd already shown so many sides to this guy--sarcastic, sleepy, bashful, nearly naked and actually crying--but that had been when he'd been near anonymous. Now Horacio was here, right in front of him, close enough that Stiles could smell his subtle cologne. Stiles could just touch him if he wanted.

Horacio ordered curly fries with extra cheese and crab cake sliders for Stiles. (Stiles had immediately looked at the menu.  _ Sliders?! _ ) For himself, he ordered a 10oz steak, garlic cheddar mashed potatoes and wild rice. He ordered a glass of red too, but Stiles got water.

After the server took their menus, Horacio nodded to Stiles's bag. "I do hope you didn't bring a book in worry of being bored to tears."

Stiles let out a laugh, lifting his bag up and pulling out his Olympus OM-1. "It was my grandfather's. My mom gave it to me when I was a kid. It kind of sparked my interest in photography and later paraphotography."

"What does your mother think of you hunting ghosts?" His voice was kind, fond, without any obvious mockery, and that was a change.

Stiles shrugged a shoulder as he put the camera back in its beat up case. "Wouldn't know. She died when I was eight."

When he looked up, he expected to find pity, or perhaps a pained expression that this conversation turned awkward. No one liked to talk about dead parents on a first date, after all. But Horacio's eyes had gone a bit shuttered, before he looked down.

"My mother died when I was around that age too," he said.

Thankfully the server came then, breaking the heavy bubble of tension with their drinks and warm, heavenly fragrant bread. He informed them their food would be out soon, before he left them alone again.

“So, why is it you wanted a late lunch instead of a nice candlelit dinner? Something to do with your little ghost hunting adventure?” Horacio asked with a sip of his wine.

Stiles tried not to be offended, because by the way Horacio’s eyes smiled, he was obviously just teasing. So Stiles cracked a smile, pointing out the window at the mansion across the street. A sign in front of it advertised a ‘Historical Tour with a Side of Spooky.’ “I want to get a few pictures as the sun goes down, maybe catch some orbs or something more person shaped.”

Horacio nodded but didn't ask any further about the subject. That was okay. Stiles was used to everyone else being disinterested in his field of study. The only one who had really ever asked specific question was KingDaddy, in fact... Deciding not to think about it, Stiles assaulted his straw, drinking almost half the glass of water in the process. He wasn't sure if he was really thirsty or nervous. 

He looked up and found Horacio looking at his mouth, almost transfixed with his wine still in midair. Okay, Stiles knew he sucked on straws strangely, but no one had ever shown that type of interest. His face colored, he sucked a little more, before he set the glass down and cleared his throat. 

Horacio looked back at his eyes.

"Maybe we can go to dinner next time," Stiles said, looking down at his hands, which he twisted together.

"Of course," Horacio replied smoothly, bringing up his class. "I did rent a hotel room for the night anyway, should the urge take us."

Stiles knew that he was blushing to the tips of his ears. His whole body felt hot, and he licked his dry lips several times. Wow, that was... It wasn't presumptuous, not exactly. He had told everyone in his channel that he wanted to lose his virginity. It wasn't like he subscribed to the whole idea of only putting out after the third date either. It was just that the idea of having sex with Horacio had been so abstract. He hadn't even known what the man looked like.

But now he did... and now he was imagining Horacio looming over him, holding Stiles's legs up about his waist and whispering Stiles's name as he--

The food arrived, which was a blessing, because Stiles needed to think about something--anything else. The cheese fries and sliders looked amazing. He almost reached for the fries, but then he thought better of it and grabbed his fork, stabbing at them with some semblance of courtesy. 

"Am I moving too fast for you, babe?"

Stiles looked up, a mouth full of food, a took in Horacio's tentative expression. Oh, he hadn't said anything yet, had he? 

Before he could, Horacio went on, "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Ha--Stiles. So please tell me, is that too fast?"

Stiles chewed his food and swallowed, thinking about it. Horacio was here, offering what he had said he wanted. He was too old to be a virgin anyway, right? He finally shook his head. "No," he said softly. "It's not too fast. Just don't... expect too much."

Horacio smiled at him with a kind of tenderness, before he set down his wine and reached across the table and lay his hand--long fingers, manicured nails, warm--over Stiles's. "Only what you are willing to give, babe."

Stiles let out a breath and nodded, smiling back.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to find Lydia had message him. “This is a safety text. Let me know you’re not in pieces somewhere. :)”

Stiles snorted and sent back, “I’m fine. It’s good. He’s hot. I’ll tell you the deets later.”

“You better! <3 <3”

Horacio was looking at him when he stuffed his phone away. “A friend?”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, my friend, Lydia, texting me to make sure you’re not a serial killer.”

Horacio snorted softly, then put his fingers over his nose.

The food was great, of course, and Stiles had to chuckle when Horacio leaned over, wielding a napkin, and brushed some crumbs from Stiles's cheek with a cluck of his tongue. Horacio even offered him a bite of his steak, and Stiles took the fork to take the bite, humming at how good it was. When he offered the fork back, he realized something by the was Horacio's face was set. "Oh," he said, sliding his eyes around. "You were trying to feed me, weren't you?"

"It's fine, Stiles," Horacio told him with a shake of his head. "You're new at this. We'll get there."

Stiles didn't know if there was ever a point where he'd be cool with being hand fed, especially in public, but he wouldn't knock it before he tried it.

After they finished their food, Horacio handed his card to the server before even being offered the little folder with the check in it. Stiles had thought about offering to pay his share, but he was pretty sure Horacio would have scoffed at the very thought. Besides, wasn't the point of this to have someone take care of him? He supposed to be a baby boy.

They walked across the street to the mansion, where the managed to catch the beginning of a tour. There were only two other tourists, and they looked old enough to have wandered in by accident. The mansion was interesting, though not what Stiles was there for. He imitated the faces of the people in the portraits, and Horacio's amused smile looked a bit forced.

When they reached the end of the tour, the light outside was starting to dim. "Is there any chance I can spend some time in the back garden?" Stiles asked the tour guide, who nodded and said it was three dollars an hour for ghost hunters.

"So what's so special about this garden?" Horacio asked, following Stiles out. He stopped at the edge of the wooden porch, muttering something about his shoes not being made for this, while Stiles tromped out into the dewy grass.

"On the mansion staff a hundred or so years ago, there was a wet nurse," Stiles said as he opened his bag. "Eleonora." He pulled out a collapsible tripod, shaking it out to its three and a half foot height, before he set up his camera on top. "She raised two generations of kids here. She didn't have a family of her own. So they buried her by that tree." He pointed to the biggest, oldest oak in the garden. "There are rumors of her walking around the garden at night."

"And you're going to attempt to capture this spectre on film?"

"Yup, that's the idea," Stiles said, looking into his camera's viewfinder and adjusting the positioning, that way he could catch the most activity possible.

"How long does this take?"

"Well, I've got four rolls of film to get through, so it shouldn't take more than a couple hours." He stood up straight and grinned at Horacio. "I'm not going to keep you out here until witching hour."

Horacio had an unreadable expression. "I appreciate that."

"Just wait until you see the photos," Stiles said as he started snapping. "Even if I don't catch anything otherworldly, they'll still be really beautiful."

"Okay."

Stiles wished his could properly share his excitement about this stuff with Horacio. Maybe he could convince him to come to some other haunts, but first they'd have to talk about his shoes. Once he got an EMF reader, he'd let Horacio use it, maybe ask some ghosts some questions. That was enough to get any curious, especially if they got results.

It was fully dark and getting a little chilly when Horacio spoke up, "You know, we didn't have dessert at the cafe. When we get to the hotel, we could get room service? Maybe they have chocolate covered strawberries."

“Sounds good," Stiles said, putting his second roll of film into the camera.

Stiles wasn't sure how many pictures he'd taken when he heard Horacio's voice again, "Stiles, perhaps we should head to the hotel. I do have to leave pretty early in the morning. I want to spend as much time with you as I can."

"You're spending time with me." Stiles turned the camera this way and that. 

"I meant in the hotel room..."

"Oh." Stiles was too focused on the oak tree to really give that much thought. "Okay, a few more minutes, and we can go."

Stiles wasn't sure how many more times he said that, because it had been automatic. He'd barely been paying attention to his date, more interested in getting the right shot. He didn't have it yet, he didn't think. But finally he was out of film, so there was nothing left to do but go. 

"Oh man, I hope I got what I needed," he said as he put his camera in its case and started folding up the tripod. "Even if I didn't, this was great." He turned around, stuffing his tripod around. "We can go to the hotel... now."

Horacio was gone.

Stiles blinked at the place where the guy had been for several seconds.

The tour guide poked his head out of the back door. "Hey, it's almost nine. We're closing up."

Almost nine? Had Stiles really been standing out here for four hours?

"Is my friend in there waiting for me?" he asked the tour guide, starting toward the door.

The guy shook his head. "No, he left a while ago. Paid for your visit though."

Stiles numbly walked out of the front of the mansion, holding a dim hope that Horacio was somewhere out there waiting on him. There was a taxi, so maybe--

The driver's side window went down. "You Stiles?" the tired, overworked older woman asked him.

"That's me," Stiles said, approaching slowly.

"A dude paid me a Benjamin to take you wherever you need to go." She jerked her thumb toward the back. "Hop in."

Mutely, Stiles did so. He sat, buckled in and hugged his bag to his chest.

"Berkeley campus, right?" the driver asked, squinting at him in the rear view mirror.

"Yeah." 

Stiles knew that this woman didn't get paid enough to clean his tears out of her seats, so he kept them in for now.

 

* * *

 

Stiles was aware it was self-destructive behavior, but when he got home, he logged onto his Best Boy account and went to his loyal Daddies page. The number of Daddies had gone for twenty-two to twenty-21.

Stiles wasn't exactly surprised, though he had been holding onto a thread of hope that Horacio had just needed to leave early. But no, he was gone. He couldn't come back either, because Stiles had his channel locked. He wasn't about to unlock it either, not with Isaac’s Daddies out there.

Stiles closed his laptop, scrubbed his hands over his face and went to take a shower. He wanted to be fresh, pink and new. He wanted to think about something other than his failed date.

After showering, Stiles realized he didn't really have any clean sleep clothes. Also, a lot of his clothes were all over the floor from him deciding what to wear that afternoon. With a huff, he grabbed his laundry basket, stuffed it full of his wayward shirts and pants, and padded through his apartment to his laundry nook.

With the first load in, Stiles wandered into the kitchen for something sweet to bury his sad under. That was when he noticed his sink was full of dishes, so put on some music before getting to work. He wasn't sure how long it was before he realized the playlist he put on was set to single song repeat, but at that point he was bouncing to the beat and mouthing the words anyway.

Stiles found out he had a little cut on his hand when he was attacking his bathtub with Oxyclean. He jumped around, cursing as he shook his hand, before he decided two hours of cleaning was enough for one night.

He still felt crazed, like he was vibrating out of his skin. It wasn't uncommon for him to bounce between extremes like this, but it was annoying all the same.

He glanced at the clock. Almost midnight. He grabbed his laptop again and sat crossed-legged on the bed, bare-chested and unable to give a damn. He knew there was a slim chance he would get any viewers, but he couldn't sleep yet.

Surprisingly, a few minutes after he opened his channel, in came a few of his Daddies.

**TheDuke:** Hello, Halo, you're on late.

The others greeted him as well. Stiles smiled as his heart warmed a little. “Yeah, I have way too much energy to sleep. Plus I have a song in my head, so. Here I am.”

**SilverPapa:** Planning on singing for us?

Stiles blinked. The thought hadn't actually occurred to him, but it was probably a good way to get his energy out of him. “I haven't practiced, so it might be terrible.”

**TheDuke:** Impossible.

The others quickly agreed.

Stiles gave an amused piggy snort. “Okay, but remember you guys asked for it.” He brought up his Spotify and loaded the song he had been listening to all night. The beat was peppy and fun, and it made him smile, bouncing a little.

“Another night, I feel barely alive,” he sang, letting the music wash over him as he pulled up emotions he hadn’t let take him yet. “Maybe the side chain kick drum gets me high.” He bobbed his head back and forth with the increasing beat. “Last thing I should be doing, but I keep doing it again and again. Lately been thinking maybe the beat will save me from all of my friends.”

He tipped his head back a little, moving his body. He didn’t know how he looked, and he wanted to not care for once. “How you feeling? Heartbroken and jonesing for a nicotine rush, like a sad and lonely lush, alright. How you feeling? Three shots in and hoping I’m not letting you down, ‘cause I don’t do well in crowds, alright.”

Stiles threw up his arms. “Drown it ou-ou-out! Turn it ou-ou-out!” He buried his hands in his hair, messing it up even further. “So tell me, how you feeling? I’m feeling, I’m feeling, I’m feeling, I’m feeling alright, alright.”

Stiles sucked in a shaking breath, opening his eyes, which stung with the truth of the lyrics. “I’m dancing reckless, but it’s all a lie. Don’t have the patience to even say goodbye.”

The song continued, and he sang while wondering where Horacio was. Had he gone back to the hotel? Or had he just gone home? It wasn’t like Stiles had a number to contact him to ask, and his wounded pride meant he was not about find him on the site.

“I’m coming down, I’m coming down,” he sang again and again, shoulders sagging. “I’m feeling, I’m feeling, I’m feeling, I’m feeling alright, alright.”

He let the background voices sing the rest. He wasn’t alright.

The music wound down, and he was a bit late to stop it before the next song started. He closed his Spotify and heaved a sigh, sliding his hands over his face. “I’m not in a good mood.”

**Padre9in:** thats obv 

**CasanovaSir:** What is wrong, Halo?

Stiles shrugged. “A lot of things. I know I should just… sleep or something, but I can’t.” He looked down. “I, um, I don’t want to be on camera anymore, is that okay?” He took in a deep breath and let it out. “But I’m lonely.” He dropped his eyes. “My PMs are open if anyone wants to keep me company.”

Instantly, seven little envelopes appeared at the corner of screen, dancing one atop the other. Stiles was a little overwhelmed, but he managed to click on the one at top.

**dixiedik:** pay u for nudes?

This level of regret was a new sensation.

Four more of the envelopes were the same. He still didn't understand why people wanted to know the shade of pink of his asshole. When he opened one more message, he saw a familiar name.

**TheDuke:** Hello, darling, I would love to stay on and chat with you, but I have an early morning. If you ever want to talk though, do call me. Here's my number...

Well, that was interesting. Stiles stared at the digits for a while. That area code was just a hop and a skip away from him. He slowly dragged his phone over and saved it to his contacts. He felt a little silly having "TheDuke" in his directory. Maybe someday he'd learn his real name.

Opening the last message, he sagged in relief at who was waiting for him.

**SilverPapa:** Wanna talk about what has you down?

**SilverPapa:** No pressure. We can talk about anything else.

**SilverPapa:** You seem upset though.

Stiles smiled to himself, before he put his hands to the keys, ready to spill his guts.

**HaloCrosse:** I went on a date with TigerBear.

**HaloCrosse:** It was fine, but then we went to this haunted site, right? I wanted to take pictures, see if I could catch anything.

**HaloCrosse:** I guess he thought I was ignoring him, because he left at some point without saying goodbye.

**SilverPapa:** Oh.

HaloCrosse: Yeah. I checked my loyalty list before I went live. He's not on it anymore.

**SilverPapa:** I see.

**SilverPapa:** That's a painful situation. I assume you weren't actually ignoring him?

**HaloCrosse:** No, that's the thing. I was having a good time!

**HaloCrosse:** I was excited to share my passion for the paranormal with someone.

**HaloCrosse:** But I guess he got tired of asking me to back to the hotel with him and left.

**SilverPapa:** I'm sorry, Halo.

**HaloCrosse:** I want to shake it off.

**HaloCrosse:** I pretty much cleaned my place from bottom to top in a manic frenzy.

**SilverPapa:** Didn't help?

**HaloCrosse:** Not really.

Stiles glanced at the clock.

**HaloCrosse:** Hey, what time zone are you in? It's late as butts here, so it's gotta be late where you are.

**SilverPapa:** Same one as you. I'm not too far from where you are.

**HaloCrosse:** Yeah?

**SilverPapa:** Yeah.

**HaloCrosse:** Damn, mind if I come over and cry on your shoulder? Lol.

**SilverPapa:** Not at all.

Stiles snorted to himself.

**SilverPapa:** You know...

**SilverPapa:** There's this cemetery that is said to have high activity after midnight.

**HaloCrosse:** Yeah? Where?

**SilverPapa:** I could show you.

**SilverPapa:** Would you like to have a midnight picnic in a cemetery with me?

Stiles's heart lurched up into his throat. He wanted to scream "yes!" from the top of his building, not caring if it was such a fast rebound that it nearly gave him whiplash. But of course the first thing his fingers typed was something incredibly stupid. 

**HaloCrosse:** Isn't that illegal?

He dropped his head in his hands. As if he gave a good goddamn.

**SilverPapa:** Well... It's not criminal. Misdemeanor at best. 

**HaloCrosse:** Lololol.

**SilverPapa:** :)

**SilverPapa:** Would you like to go? I'm pretty much always free. Being self-employed lets me set my own hours.

**HaloCrosse:** Yeah! I'd love to!

**SilverPapa:** Great. Anytime. Just let me know.

Stiles felt a little giddy, trying to conjure up his schedule in his scattered brain. Nope, couldn't do it. He needed sleep before rational thinking. He tapped his lips, as he did have one clear thought though.

**HaloCrosse:** Can I ask you a favor though?

**SilverPapa:** Shoot.

**HaloCrosse:** Can I have a picture? I don't want to go into a date blind again.

**HaloCrosse:** I mean, you know what I look like...

**SilverPapa:** Sure. Is a webcam picture okay?

**HaloCrosse:** Works for me. :D

It took a few minutes, but a prompt came up asking him if he wanted to accept a picture upload from SilverPapa, and he hit yes. He bit his lip as he watched the loading bar zip to finish, before he opened it. To say that he was pleasantly surprised was an understatement _. _

He was older, probably mid-fifties, if the graying at his temples and in his soft-looking beard was anything to go by. His short her was unkempt, like he hadn't done anything all day, so he hadn't bothered to comb it, which was painfully charming. Salt and pepper chest hair was scattered across the skin of his chest exposed by his white shirt. He had a nice, distinguished nose. His smile was kind, almost embarrassed. But what really got Stiles were his eyes. They were beautifully light blue, almost grey, and they crinkled at the edges with years and years of laughter.

[ SilverPapa was _gorgeous_. ](https://flic.kr/p/23Ezg5h)

**HaloCrosse:** Yeah so...

**HaloCrosse:** I'm free tomorrow if you're down, like heeeeeey.

**SilverPapa:** Hahaha.

**SilverPapa:** Okay. :)

Hell yeah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stiles's song is "How You Feeling?" by Superfruit.
> 
> You know what's cool? Having a job? You know what's not cool? Working 12-16hr shifts and being unable to write at all! xD
> 
> I hope you guys liked this chapter!
> 
> Next chapter: Stiles goes on a date with SilverPapa, but first he reads a very informative book.
> 
> For those of you curious about the kittens I found before the hurricane, they are like four months old now and are living in their forever home with my good friends. They have gone from tiny garbage fur beans to absolute models.
> 
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/154706275@N05/38951454185/in/dateposted-public/)  
> 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally this has been written! Here's hoping I can stop working doubles soon. x.X

When Lydia found out what happened on Stiles's date, she put on her angry eyebrows. "I will kill him," she said as she delicately balanced her pink plastic spoon with the cat face on the end above her fat free rainbow sherbet that was covered in strawberry Boba Burst balls. "I will honestly kill him, and no one will find his body."

"You should probably not announced that you're planning on murdering a dude in Menchie's." Stiles loved her all the same. "But thanks. And it's okay, Lyds, I'm over it now. It just wasn't meant to be or whatever." He poked at his own frozen chocolate custard with his spoon. It was brown and had a bear on it.

Lydia stared at him. "So you have a date with another of your viewers, I take it?" 

Stiles looked up with a spoonful of ice cream. "Oh my god, you are so scary."

"No, you have a terrible poker face," she replied, before she put her chin on her hand and stared at him. "Spill it."

Stiles didn't know where to begin. Did he tell her about how he had talked to SilverPapa for almost two hours last night? How the guy had made him smile until his face felt like it was going to break or how he had laughed so hard he had gotten the hiccups? Did he tell her that just talking to him had made him feel amazingly better, had made him almost forget Horacio all together.

Ultimately he just pulled up the selfie he'd been sent on his phone and showed Lydia, figuring that would be enough.

It was. Lydia stared at the phone in his hand, eyes going big and cheeks hollowing out as she sucked her coconut water through a pink loopy straw. "I'm jelly," she said finally, making Stiles laugh. "So do you know anything about this silver fox, or are you going in blind?" Lydia took his phone and studied the picture curiously.

"Yeah, I asked him for his deets," Stiles said, watching her scrutinize like she could tell a damn thing through a selfie. "His name is Chris. He works in security systems. He drives a Toyota 4Runner. He even gave me the license plate number, so I'd recognize his car when he comes to pick me up."

Lydia looked up then, eyebrows raised.

"Don't give me that look," Stiles told her with a laugh, before he tapped his phone. "Look at that face and tell me you wouldn't let him carry you into the fucking sunset."

With a sniff, Lydia didn't agree or disagree. "Do you know his last name?"

"Argent," Stiles supplied as he poked his ice cream.

"Argent?" Lydia asked, and her lips pulled to the side as she pondered that. "Where have I heard that name before?"

Stiles let out a hum. It had sounded familiar to him too, but he couldn't place it. So he shrugged, and Lydia followed suit.

"Do you need more condoms and lube?" Lydia asked, looking delighted as Stiles sucked his soda right into his lungs and spent a full minute trying to clear them with loud coughing.

"Lyds," he wheezed. "We're having a picnic in a graveyard!"

Lydia considered this. "That's not a no." She leaned over, grabbed her mammoth purse, and tossed unopened supplies at him.

"I love and hate you," he told her, stuffing the supplies into his messenger bag as his face caught fire.

 

* * *

 

**KingDaddy:** Erica tells me that your date with TigerBear ended unfavorably.

**HaloCrosse:** It did... How'd she know?

**KingDaddy:** Apparently you sang a sad song and told your Daddies you were lonely. No one would do that after a successful date.

**HaloCrosse:** True.

**KingDaddy:** Do you mind if I ask what happened? 

**HaloCrosse:** Nothing bad, just...

Stiles heaved a sigh and told him everything. His eyes burned by the end of it. He rubbed at them.

**KingDaddy:** Don't worry, Halo. I'm sure there is a Daddy out there for you.

**HaloCrosse:** I actually have a date tonight.

**KingDaddy:** Oh.

**KingDaddy:** With whom?

**HaloCrosse:** SilverPapa.

**KingDaddy:** Ah.

Stiles knew KingDaddy was about to get distant and clipped. He did that every time he said 'Ah.' Stiles didn't get it. He didn't know if he was disappointing his boss or what. He hoped not. He wanted his boss to be proud of him. He really wanted that, even though he knew he shouldn't. It wasn't right.

**KingDaddy:** I should leave you to prepare then.

**KingDaddy:** I hope you have fun, Halo.

**HaloCrosse:** Thanks.

_ KingDaddy has left the chat... _

Stiles logged off and pushed his laptop away. His boss hadn't even asked where he was going. He'd asked last time. Did he not care anymore? Stiles shuffled under the covers on his bed and huffed to himself. Stop it. There was no point in speculating. It wouldn't get him anywhere.

From his place on the bed, he spotted the box by the door. Oh, right, the book he'd ordered. He'd forgotten all about it. He shoved his covers off and went over to pick it up. It was heavy. Was it a 2000 page encyclopedia on Daddykink? He giggled softly at his own joke as he plopped down and ripped the box open. The book definitely looked like it was probably that long. It was like a textbook. Damn.

Tossing the box away, he pulled the book into his lap and opened it. Past the publishing details and the foreword, he found the glossary. Wait. "What the fuck?" he asked the quiet of the room. "Arachne, banshee, changeling," he read, picking one entry from each letter. "Chimera, daeva...elf..." 

Stiles flopped back against the pillows, regarding the ceiling. "Okay, boss man, you fucking with me? I think you're fucking with me. Look, you got me talking to myself..."

Stiles read the book anyway. Honestly, it was all very interesting. With each entry about a supernatural creature, there were suggestions on how to guard against and dispatch it, if need be. Obviously whomever wrote this book was a big fan of a certain CW show, because it seemed to be a serious guide. Stiles kept on reading, engrossed. Then he reached the letter  _ W. _

He almost skipped right past it. He didn't need more info on that. Twilight and True Blood had ruined him on the subject. But then after he flipped a page, he paused and went back. It was that symbol! The one of the paw, the one that was at the bottom of every page of www.BestBoy.com. It was the symbol for  _ werewolves! _

Stiles sat upright, the rational part of his mind trying to tell him that was impossible while a much louder part of him was screaming,  _ 'Well you fucking believe in ghosts, right?' _ He was out of his bed in an instant, going over to his cork board. He grabbed his flashcards and his yarn.

He scribbled the paw symbol on a card and wrote  _ Werewolf  _ underneath it. When had he first suspected that something was... off? Well, there was that one night Erica had PMed him and said his Daddies might be 'more lively' than usual. And they had been. They had been restless. They had wanted to look at his neck and his back. They had been... well, agitated might not have been the right word, but they had been ready to fight one another. They had also been very concerned about his welfare, like they'd wanted to take care of him.

What had Horacio asked?  _ 'You feel it, don't you, Halo? The pull, the electricity in the night, the tug on the wilder side of you.' _

He had. He had felt  _ something _ making his blood surge through his veins. That was why he'd sung Rocky Horror for them. He only did that when he was feeling truly bold. What they must have felt when he’d invited a creature of the night to dirty him up.

He'd check his app that night hadn't he? It had been the night before the full moon. Stiles thought on it, before he scratched the date onto a card and put it on the board. If he thought back, he could pin point other dates where the Daddies had been acting all weird. Then, of course, there was the night when he'd been with Prince.

He ended up with six months worth of nights on the board. He stood back and studied it. "Fuck," he murmured, fingers against his bottom lip. "My viewers are honest to God werewolves." He dropped his head into his hands and wondered how he'd managed to accomplish that.

The next full moon was two and half weeks away... Stiles looked at the clock. It was safe to out with Chris then, right? He wasn't going to get mauled by the man in the middle of a cemetery. At least, a murder mauling. He'd be okay with a sexy mauling.

He was certainly willing to risk it.

 

* * *

 

There was a knock on his door at 11:15pm on the dot, and Stiles flailed a bit, shaking his hands in front of him as a sudden bout of nerves took him. He took a few calming breaths and forced himself not to rush to the door and rip it open. He might have jogged the last few steps, but he couldn't be blamed. There was a super sexy Daddy on the other side of the door.

Chris looked gorgeous, of course, and Stiles couldn't help but look him up and down. Faded jeans, combat boots, a soft looking tee and a leather jacket. Yum. Would it be weird to rub his palms over Chris's beard? Probably. He refrained, but only just.

Chris's eyes crinkled at the edges. "Hi, Stiles."

"Hi," Stiles breathed back, voice a bit wobbly. He cleared his throat, before he grabbed his keys and stepped out. "I'm ready."

"Let's head out then," Chris said, tilting his head down the hall toward the elevator.

It was easy sitting in Chris's SUV, listening to 70s rock like Styx and Heart. Chris didn't even complain when Stiles belted along with  _ Renegade. _ "If I didn't like your voice, I wouldn't be your loyal... viewer," Chris said, looking away as he did.

How was it so endearing that Chris couldn't even say the word  _ Daddy? _

"So, if you don't mind me asking, how did you end up on the website?" Chris prompted with a kind of curiosity and ease that Stiles didn't even feel the slightest bit of judgment from him.

"Best Boy and Best Buy are only one letter apart," Stiles answered honestly, startling a laugh out of Chris. "I seriously wanted a video game, but once I was on the site, I fell into a kind of obsessed spiral."

Chris snorted and rubbed his nose -- a gesture that was way too adorable for a man that was possibly his dad's age. "Well, I probably speak for everyone in your channel when I say I'm glad you made a typo."

"Gotta say the money's pretty great. Starving college student is not a great look on me." He pulled his lips to the side. "I'm almost sure that I gained like ten pounds just from that stew you gave me the recipe for." He grinned as Chris chuckled. "I cannot stop eating it. You've ruined me."

"It is a good kind of ruining at least?" Chris asked, turning and giving him that hesitant but sweet smile again, just like his selfie.

Stiles felt his face heat up, and he bit his lip before looking forward again. "Yeah."

Stiles had a feeling he'd let this guy do all kinds of ruining. Would he hold Stiles with firm hands, direct him where he wanted him to go? Would he praise him as he gently took him apart? Or would he plow him with no mercy? Stiles was down for both. He wondered what he looked like naked. Was he covered in hair like the tuft sticking out of the top of his shirt? It almost looked like... fur.

The air practically rushed out of Stiles at the memory, at what Chris could be. He looked at him again, studying his face. Yeah, he could probably be a werewolf, right? He looked kind of fluffy, and Stiles would bet money he was wild under all of that.

"Ah, here we are," Chris said as he pulled off the main road down a dirt and gravel drive. "Looks like there's no one around, so we should be able to--"

"Are you a werewolf?" Stiles interrupted, the epitome of tact.

Chris braked kind of abruptly, and they both lurched forward. He gave Stiles wide eyes, before he looked back out the window. Then he laughed a little, lifting his foot off the brake so the rolled forward. "No, Stiles, I'm not a werewolf."

Stiles let out a relieved breath. God, what had he been  _ thinking? _

Chris parked them next to the cemetery wall and turned off the car. He smiled and reached back to grab the picnic basket from the backseat. "I'm a werewolf hunter," he told him easily, before he got out.

"Wait,  _ what? _ " Stiles called after him. He watched Chris go around to the front of the car and -- no shit -- hop up onto the hood. Stiles stared in confusion, mouth open and wordless as Chris crouched and beckoned for Stiles to follow him, before he stepped onto the roof with heavy, metallic thunks.

Stiles stared up, hands slowly going to his seat belt. He got himself out of the SUV and looked up on top of the car. Chris wasn't there. He whipped his head around and found the man standing on top of the cemetery wall, looking tall and proud of his trespassing. The picnic basket made it kind of weird.

"You coming?" Chris asked, lifting a brow at him, before he turned and dropped down out of sight.

Okay, with that kind of move, Chris definitely went fuzzy-wuzzy once a month. 

Stiles grabbed his messenger bag, hazarded a glance around as he rounded the SUV, before he clamored up onto it. He nearly broke a windshield wiper as he flailed down the glass with squeaking sneakers, having no purchase at first, before he made it onto the roof. He hopped over to the wall, which was wide enough to support him. He still did a fabulous impression of a double-bladed helicopter though.

Chris was right below him, hands outstretched to catch him if need be. The picnic basket was on the ground behind him. He was smiling, apparently amused by Stiles’s interesting sense of balance. 

Stiles kind of wanted to fall, so he could feel those arms around him. Instead, he lowered onto the wall, sitting, so he could have a more controlled drop. “Okay, so you have to explain that comment,” he said as he held out his bag to Chris.

“What part?” Chris replied, a teasing glint in his stormy eyes. He took the bag and set it aside to safety.

“The werewolf part, and the hunter part. Both parts,” Stiles babbled as he tried to descend without landing hard on his tailbone. 

Chris caught him by the calves, giving him support. His hands were strong, big, and warm even through Stiles’s jeans as they worked up the back of Stiles’s legs to help him down. Once on the ground, Stiles couldn’t help but hold his breath. Chris was very, very close. So close that Stiles could see a thin white line of a faint scar running over both lips and disappearing into his scruff. Stiles wondered if he would feel it, should they kiss.

Chris licked his lips and stepped back, and just like that the spell was broken. Chris handed Stiles his bag and held the basket at his side. “It’s pretty straight forward. The explanation is in the title.”

“Werewolves are real,” Stiles said, and it wasn’t a question, more like a wide-eyed statement of how his reality was broadening. 

“Yes,” Chris answered anyway, nodding toward the graves. “Let’s find a spot.”

“I’ve been talking to werewolves this whole time,” Stiles continued as he followed. “I sang for werewolves. I stripped for werewolves. I cried in front of werewolves.”

“Yup,” Chris assented again, glancing around. Then he pointed. “How about under that willow?”

“Why are you on the site then?” Stiles asked, doing a short jog to catch up.

Chris looked at him, before he spread his hands as if to say  _ because this. _

“No, I mean, you’re a human, and you’re on a site for werewolves,” Stiles clarified, smiling as Chris laid out a blanket and lowered himself onto it. Stiles followed, folding his legs and staring at Chris intently. “Why?”

“I was invited by the owner,” Chris explained, opening the basket.

“By KingDaddy?”

Chris smirked as if the handle amused him, and he started setting out plastic containers on the blanket between them. Had he cooked all this beforehand? He had been suggesting recipes for a while, so it was very likely. “I’ve known him a while. He suggested I join his site after my wife left me.”

Stiles lifted his brows.

“I love her, I do, and I love our daughter, but… I’m gay.” Chris gave a shrug. “She was in the right to go. Things are better now. Anyway.” He shook his head as if to clear it. “I was lonely, and your boss saw that, and the rest is history.”

“Huh.” Stiles thought about that, before he squinted into the middle distance. “But… He’s a werewolf.”

“Yes.” So they were back to this.

“And you are a werewolf hunter.”

“Correct.”

“You…” Stiles lifted his hands and made a few spastic gestures. “You’re on a site full of werewolves, and you  _ hunt _ werewolves.”

“Ah,” Chris said with a huff of a laugh. “Hunt, yes, but I don’t kill them. They are not game, and I am not out to exterminate them. I, and the crew I employ, track down lone wolves, as it were, and try to connect them with packs.” He scratched at his beard. “Sure, there are violent wolves, but there is a werewolf penal system for that.” He shrugged.

Stiles did his best to try to absorb this information. The first thing out of his mouth was, "So... Is TigerBear a werewolf?"

Amusement tugged at the edge of Chris's mouth. "Yes."

Squinting, Stiles tried to remember all the handles of the Daddies in his channel. "What about TheDuke?" he asked slowly.

Chris nodded, smile growing a little. “Before you ask, Erica and Boyd are werewolves too. So's Isaac. You and I are probably two of the..." He flicked his eyes, thinking. "...Six humans involved with the site."

Stiles tilted his head this way and that. "Is it... it's really obvious that I'm human, isn't it? The Daddies knew right away?"

"Did you never wonder why your profile portrait is rimmed in blue?"

"It is?" Stiles had honestly never even noticed. "Wait, blue means human?" At Chris's nod, Stiles had to ask. "What color is for werewolf?"

"Red." Chris offered him a plate.

Stiles took it, trying to remember if he'd even looked at any portraits other than his own and Isaac's. He didn't think he had. He looked down at the food. "Okay, what is this?" He pointed at a kind of goopy lump on the plate. It would have been called the Grey Stuff if it were in a Disney movie.

"Humus," Chris replied, and he didn't look offended. "I make my own."

"I gotta say I've never had it," Stiles admitted, as if it needed to be said.

Chris just laughed softly, picked up a crispy bread chip, dipped it in his own humus and ate it with a crunch that sounded rather satisfying.

Dubious, Stiles did the same... then ate the rest of the humus on his plate before he even thought about speaking again.

Chris looked pleased and offered him the plastic bowl of it. "At least try some of the other food too."

Stiles ate his whole plate. He had never thought that cold cuts and humus with pita bread could taste so good. He felt swollen with food by the end of it, but he was still reaching for more. "Feed me always," he managed after he'd annihilated the rest of the spiced turkey and chicken.

"I hope you have room for dessert," Chris said, looking completely delighted with all the praise. He grabbed an unopened container and popped the lid. He pulled out a small, hard caramel ball, and offered it to Stiles.

Stiles just leaned forward and took it with his lips, which brushed over Chris's fingers. They were a bit rough, calloused, a working man's hands, and Stiles liked the taste of them. He hadn't actually meant to be all sexy about it. He'd just wanted that sweet in his mouth -- it turned out to be a mini caramel apple ball -- but he was taken with the way Chris's eyes went all dark, the stormy grey slowly vanishing.

Licking his lips, Stiles made a decision. He moved the plates and containers out of the way, before he scooted closer and turned to lean against Chris's chest. He smiled up at him, amused by his blink, before he gave the container of sweets a pointed look. Oh, half of them were chocolate, hell yeah.

Chris laid it in Stiles's hands, that way he could wrap one of his arms around Stiles and use his free hand to pluck the candied fruit from the container. 

It should have felt silly, to be honest. Getting hand fed was something babies did, right? Then why did it feel so... Stiles didn't know a word for it. (And that was disconcerting, because he knew lots of words.) Maybe it was just easy? He'd always put up so much fuss when his dad tried to baby him, but that was because it was Stiles's job to be the caretaker now that he was old enough.

With this? He didn't have to think about it. Chris would tend to him, feed him, and it was okay. He felt cared for. Cherished.

Now he understood.

"Looks like we're out," Chris said, pulling Stiles slowly out of his reverie. 

Stiles looked at the container in his hands. All that was left in it were tiny chips of chocolate. He stabbed them with his fingertip then sucked them into his mouth. When he looked up, Chris looked very amused. "Oh, shit, you probably wanted some, didn't you?"

With a little shake of his head, Chris continued to smile. "Wouldn't have fed them to you if I didn't want you to enjoy them," he said, and his voice was lower, just a touch huskier. His eyes flicked to Stiles's mouth. "I could kiss you and have a good enough taste."

A little thrill slithered through Stiles's body. "Yeah? Gonna kiss me, mister?"

"Is that okay with you?" 

Stiles swallowed softly, wishing Chris had just gone for it. But hey, asking permission was always a nice quality in a person. "Yeah."

Chris leaned in, and Stiles tilted his head up. The brush of their lips was a sweet slide. They fit together well. Chris's beard was a pleasant scratch. It was a nice kiss, an easy kiss, but... there wasn't anything beyond the touch. It had Stiles blinking his eyes open to look at Chris, who looked a bit puzzled himself.

"Hm, let's try that again, shall we?" Chris suggested, and he dipped back in once Stiles nodded.

This kiss was more, a firmer slide of their lips and a bit of a slick brush of their tongues. Chris tasted a bit like the pepper meat. Again, it was a nice kiss. It was probably a kiss two people shared before they fell asleep for the night.

There was no fire in Stiles's belly. There was no urge to grab Chris's head and surge against him for more. There was no desire to shed clothes and break a few laws while fulfilling a few fantasies about graveyard sex. There wasn't really much of anything.

Stiles would have felt bad, but when they parted, he could tell Chris felt the same way.

Chris pulled his lips to the side, before he gave a bit of a sigh. "Alright then," he said, before he helped Stiles sit up.

"Thanks for the food?" Stiles tried, awkwardness swooping in to fill the gap where anticipation had been.

That seemed to shock a laugh out of Chris. He rubbed the back of his neck. "You're welcome, Stiles. Thanks for the company." He turned toward the picnic basket, pulling it into his lap. "I did bring you something else though." He pulled out a little black canister and handed it over.

Stiles turned it over in his hands. "Mace?" he asked, his brows crawling up his forehead.

"Anit-Wolf mace," Chris clarified. "It contains a mixture of wolfsbane, mistletoe and ghost pepper spray."

"That seems cruel," Stiles said, a touch of delight in his tone.

"It's very effective. Also, take this." Chris pulled out a mason jar of what looked like black dirt. "It's mountain ash. Make a circle and no supernatural being can cross it."

Stiles held the jar, tipping it slowly back and forth. "That's so cool."

"Think of it as a welcome basket, now that you're part of a much more interesting world."

With the mace and the mountain ash, Chris gave him more ingredients to make his own mace if he wanted. He also gave him a small, powerful flashlight for his witching hour walks through haunted houses. 

After that, Chris sat on the blanket and asked questions about Stiles's hobbies and schooling, all while Stiles was making laps around the willow and taking pictures of the graveyard. The guy never got bored, never made any indication that he was bored, nor did he try to hurry Stiles along. He just waited, patient and, most importantly, interested. He even shared a story about when he saw a partially manifested spectre during a haunt. That had Stiles practically in his lap, demanding details, which Chris gladly gave.

Stiles decided that Chris was probably the coolest person that Stiles had ever met.

It was a damn shame they didn't have any chemistry.

"So, friends?" Stiles asked once Chris had walked him to his door.

"Friends," Chris agreed, gave Stiles his number, before he hugged him.

It was a good and proper bear hug, and Stiles practically snuggled into it. That safe feeling was back, but different now. Still good, but now he hoped found a Daddy that could make him feel the way he had before.

He just had to keep looking.

It wasn't even five minutes later that he realized he had another prospect, a man that had given him his number already. He pulled out his phone and scrolled until he found the contact name.

To: TheDuke (3:06am)   
Hey, hope it's not too late.

To: TheDuke (3:07am)   
I mean, it's late here, so.

To: TheDuke (3:08am)   
I just wanted to see if you'd like to talk.

To: TheDuke (3:09am)   
No pressure, though, I mean.

To: TheDuke (3:10am)   
Uh, it's HaloCrosse, btw.

To: TheDuke (3:10am)   
My real name is Stiles.

To: TheDuke (3:11am)   
I thought maybe we could go on a date.

To: TheDuke (3:11am)   
Or something.

To: TheDuke (3:12am)   
I don't even know what timezone you're in.

To: TheDuke (3:13am)   
Okay, right, it's a stupid hour, so. Night.

Then, after a few minutes of tense staring at his phone, Stiles chastised himself for being needy and grabbed his laptop instead. He checked his email, privately hoping his class later that day would get canceled because his professor got soap in his eye again. Then he trolled for Steam sales, though he found nothing he wanted. Finally, he ended up on BestBoy.com. He hoped someone would be online to chat with him, though he didn't feel up to a show. 

He was full of energy, though it wasn't anxious or sad. He was... hopeful. He thought he knew what he wanted now. 

Only two minutes after he logged on, a dancing envelope appeared at the corner of his screen. He licked his lips, clicking on it. He wondered which one of his Daddies was up so very late.

_ KingDaddy has entered the channel... _

**KingDaddy:** Hello, Halo.

Stiles took forty-five seconds to be surprised and then recover.

**HaloCrosse:** Hi.

**KingDaddy:** How are you?

**HaloCrosse:** Good.

**KingDaddy:** Glad to hear it.:

**KingDaddy:** Listen. I realized I was a bit short with you last time we spoke.

**KingDaddy:** I am sorry about that.

Stiles felt light as hummingbird feathers all of a sudden.

**HaloCrosse:** Uh, that's okay. Thanks.

**KingDaddy:** How did you date go?

**HaloCrosse:** Good!

**KingDaddy:** Is that so?

**HaloCrosse:** Yeah. I mean, we're not going on anymore dates, but we're friends now.

**HaloCrosse:** He's a cool guy.

**KingDaddy:** I agree.

**KingDaddy:** Chris and I went to high school together.

**HaloCrosse:** That's why you invited him to the site, huh?

**KingDaddy:** Yes. We were best friends once.

Stiles licked his lips and tapped his thumb against the space bar. He began to type, starting a sentence and then erasing it. He was trying to think up a casual way to ask "So, you're a werewolf then?" He almost had it, sliding his pinky over to hit Enter.

Then the lights went out. And immediately after, a loading circle with a sad face in the middle appeared in the chat box.

"Oh hell," Stiles complained softly. That was just typical. It was a bit windy out, which always meant his power would go off. He let out the sigh of the long sufferer.

Then his phone started up a jingle, giving him such a start he nearly threw his laptop. He grabbed it, at first thinking it was maybe TheDuke, but instead the caller ID said  _ Boss Man _ . He blinked, before he slid his thumb across the surface and put it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hello, Halo," his boss said in his ear. "You... logged off very suddenly." Okay, was Stiles hallucinating, or was that nervousness he heard in his boss's voice? It was 3:30am, so it was very likely he was hearing things.

He grinned to himself anyway. "Yeah, uh, sorry, my power went out," he said, looking up at the ceiling as if for emphasis.

"Ah, alright. I just wanted to make sure I hadn't said something to offend you."

"You didn't," Stiles assured him.

"Good. Well, it is late. I should let you--"

"You're a werewolf," Stiles blurted with a total absence of tact.

His boss was silent for a while. "I am."

"That's... That's so fucking awesome!" Stiles covered his mouth after his loud outburst. 

Again, silence, then very softly, "You really think so?"

"Ohmigawd, are you kidding?" Stiles asked in a rush. "You have no idea how much more amazing this makes the world. Like, werewolves are real, so--so are the other things in that book real too?"

"Some are extinct, but yes."

"And Chris told me about one time he saw a real ghost. This--this makes everything worth it! It's real. This isn't just about pissing off all my old teachers anymore--" 

That made his boss chuckle.

"It's a legitimate field of study. I mean--like--like--"

"Breathe, sweetheart."

Stiles did the opposite.  _ Sweetheart. _ Stiles put his hand against his chest and felt his heart thunder against his palm. It wasn't all because of being excited about the supernatural either. "Sorry," he managed eventually.

"Don't be, Halo."

Swallowing, Stiles straightened up. "You know, after I cried like a baby in your ear, you earned the right to call me Stiles."

His boss let out a rumbling 'hm' in his ear, and Stiles barely suppressed a shudder. "Then you may call me Peter."

"Okay," Stiles managed shakily.

"Can I tell you a ghost story?"

Stiles snorted, shifting to lie back against his pillows. "Is it scary?"

"It won't be to you."

Touching his lips as they spread into a grin, Stiles asked, "Is it true?" 

"It is."

"Then yeah, I want to hear it."

"Alright, well, about ten years ago, my mother passed away. It was a peaceful death, before you ask. My sister and I had her cremated, and we spread her ashes in the strawberry garden. That was her favorite place." He took a breath, and Stiles had his hand over his mouth so his own breathing didn't disturb him. "On the first full moon after her death, my sister and I visited the garden before our run, and there she was."

Stiles couldn't help the sharp intake of air he took.

"You see, my mother was a very powerful werewolf. She was the matriarch, and she was able to take the full wolf form. She had been a dark brown, but when she appeared to us, she was completely white. Translucent."

"Holy shit..." Stiles whispered, unable to stop himself.

Peter chuckled quietly. "She was only there for a few moments, before she was gone. But she looked right at us. We haven't seen her since, but I like to think this was her telling us she'd always be looking out for us."

"Wow." Stiles swallowed.

"Yeah, leave it to my mother to be a helicopter parent from beyond the grave."

Laughter exploded out of Stiles, and he covered his mouth, trying to muffle it. "Oh my god. Did you tell that story just for that punchline?"

Peter's laugh was so smooth. It felt like a hand brushing through his hair, down his back. "Well, it honestly only came to me partway through the telling of it. It is true, I promise. My sister fainted. I've yet to let her forget it."

"Is it the bonding story you tell every family get together?"

Peter let out a delighted  _ ha! _ "I would, but she is scarier than I am. She might hurt me a little bit."

"Aww, poor you." Stiles heard the microwave beep, then all the lights flickered to life. "Oh hey, my power just came back on."

"That's good. Oh god, is that the time? I should attempt to get some sleep, I guess." Peter sounded rather reluctant, which Stiles took an undue amount of joy in.

"I guess..." Stiles agreed, giving Peter an opportunity to change his mind.

Peter let out an amused  _ hmph.  _ "Good night, Stiles. Sleep well."

"Thanks," Stiles said as his heart gave a treacherous flutter. "You too."

When they disconnected, Stiles looked at his phone for a long moment. Then he changed the contact info from _ Boss Man _ to _ Peter _ .

After getting ready for bed and shutting out all his lights, Stiles stared up at the ceiling, his mind racing. He shouldn't, he knew it, but he was thinking about Peter. He'd always been a bit fascinated with the guy. He was his boss, sure, but he felt like that had stopped being the extent of their relationship. He knew it was crazy. He knew he was lonely. But still... he wanted.

And  _ god, _ Peter's voice was so sexy. It wasn't particularly deep, but instead light, though with a sharp edge that could have been cutting if Peter wanted, Stiles was sure. But it felt like a touch, a brush of fingers against Stiles's cheek. And his laugh? Fuck. Stiles wanted to wrap it around him like a blanket.

He wondered what Peter looked like. Was he kind of gruff like Chris? Or was he clean-cut like Horacio? Was he a mixture of the two? What color was his hair? What color were his eyes? What kind of clothes did he wear? Was he a boxers or briefs kind of guy? Or did he go commando?

Stiles bit his lip and turned, burying his face into the pillow, because now he was thinking about whether Peter was cut. Was he long and thick? Would he reach all the places inside that Stiles needed to be scratched.

Hand traveling down, Stiles cupped himself through his boxers. What would it be like to have a werewolf fuck him? Would Peter be rough? Stiles didn't think he'd mind, as long as Peter worked him up to it. He tended to like porn where the bottom got manhandled or held down.

Mostly he just wanted Peter to hold him. He wanted to be taken into strong arms and just give in, just be for once. He didn't want to think. He wanted Peter to take over and direct him where to go, what to do, how to move. He wanted to be Peter's sweetheart for real.

His hand was in his boxers now, fingers sliding over his chub. He hoped Peter was a talker. He had such a damn sexy voice. It would be a shame if he didn't put his lips to Stiles's ear and whisper husky nothings as he thrust against him, cock sliding in and out of Stiles's willing hole.

Stiles whimpered and bit his lip, taking himself in hand and stroking now. He could just imagine Peter's voice going ragged as he got close, the way he moved faster. His hands would grip Stiles's hips just a little bit too hard, fingertips digging in. Did--did he change, become more wolfy when he got excited? Fuck, why was that so damn appealing? To see Peter becoming more animal, to know that it was because he had Stiles beneath him... well, that was an altogether new kind of thrill.

At the thought of Peter howling when he came, Stiles let out a harsh gasp and spilled over his own hand. He floated, brain swimming in chemicals of delight, and he distantly wondered if Peter cuddled after sex. He wanted to be held. He wanted to be enveloped and tucked away from the world, if only for just a little bit.

Then Stiles came down, the last few threads of pleasure slipping away. He stared at the far wall, hand still in his boxers with rapidly cooling come all over it, and he let out a sigh at himself. "Wow," he muttered, before he turned over. “I am a piece of work.” He pulled out his hand and wiped it on the sheets.

Frankly, he was disgusted at himself. It wasn't right to fantasize over his /boss./ What the hell was his major malfunction? Why did he always do this? He always got fixated, which quickly led to obsession. And always over someone he could never have? He needed therapy.

He curled up and pulled his covers up over his head. He needed to stop this before it honestly got out of hand. There was no way that his boss really was interested in him. He had plenty of baby boys to choose from, after all. Stiles closed his eyes as his self-deprecating promptly provided reasoning for his boss's attention. Stiles had wrought so much drama, just by existing. That was the only explanation.

Yeah. Stiles needed to just forget it.

 

* * *

 

The next day when Stiles got up, he reached over and grabbed his phone. After he turned off his alarm, he spied a message notif. It was from TheDuke, which really shouldn't have been disappointing, and Stiles was agitated with himself for expecting someone else.

From: TheDuke (8:43am)   
_ I would love to go on a date with you, darling. Shall we talk about when and where once you are free from class? _

To: TheDuke (11:46am)   
Sounds good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These boys are _idiots._
> 
> Only two chapters left, ooooooooh.
> 
> Come scream at me on my [tumblr!](www.thesushiowl.tumblr.com)
> 
> Please do not ask me to update faster. I'm going as fast as I can.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was supposed to have this chapter up almost two days ago, but I totally spaced while working on other stuff and forgot. I am so sorry, guys, please forgive me.
> 
> But hey, look, it's Peter.

"So what kind of food do you like?" 

God, did this guy know how sexy his voice was? Not only was he English--gaAAah--but he sounded like he would murmur to you in the dark as he did dirty, wonderful things to you all night. And then in the morning, he'd make you French toast. Stiles had perhaps read one too many dime store romance novels (for the plot, he swore).

"Uh," he finally said, goosebumps on his arms. "Y'know, diner food. Burgers, curly fries, milkshakes. Basically, anything you can cover in cheese, and it makes it better."

"You put cheese in your milkshake?" 

Stiles flushed hotly at the amusement in that voice. "No! I meant like--like nachos!"

The guy on the other end of the line laughed, low and a little husky, and it was like dragging a slick length of silk up Stiles's spine, causing him to shiver. Stiles wanted to bury his face in this dude's neck and ask him to read him bedtime stories. The only other person he'd thought this about was Morgan Freeman... okay, and Jeff Goldblum. Also, when he was sick and a little delirious, The Most Interesting Man in the World. Maybe he had a thing.

"I have a suggestion then," the man said, and Stiles perked up. "What about a drive-in theatre?"

Stiles's mouth fell open. "Whaaaat."

"I know of one that has a car hop service. I believe they serve rather impressive orders of chili and cheese French fries?"

A small squeaky squeal left Stiles's mouth.

"As far as I know, it is black and white horror night." 

"Ohmygod," Stiles whispered in a rush.

"Night of the Living Dead and House on Haunted Hill, if I'm remembering correctly. Would you like to go?"

"Yes!" Stiles said before he remembered himself. His eagerness was only so cute. "I mean, yes, I'd love to go, if that's what you want to do."

"I adore classic horror films."

Stiles bit his lip, picking at his covers. He'd yet to get up for the day. Well, he had, but only to pee before flinging himself back into the warmth of his bed. It was nearly noon, but how was he supposed to get up when this guy's voice made his spine into jello? "Uh... What do you think about Werewolf in London?"

There was silence for a long moment. "Is that your way of telling me you know that I'm a werewolf?"

Stiles let out a shaky laugh. "Yup, that's me, subtle as a hand-grenade." 

"Hm," the guy said next. "How did you find out?"

"I went on a date with Chris Argent."

That brought forth a laugh. "Did he try to absorb you into the ranks of the hunters?"

"No," Stiles told him, licking his lips. "But he did make sure I could defend myself."

Another moment of quiet, and it made Stiles a little nervous. Did he  _ need _ to protect himself that night. But finally, the guy said, "That's good. Not every wolf is a gentleman as I am."

Stiles rubbed his eyes, smiling too hard for his face to handle. "Does this gentleman wolf have a name, or should I just call you The Duke forever?"

The man snorted softly. "Deucalion," he said easily.

"As in... the son of Prometheus?" That was pretty cool.

"You know the name?"

"I'm a college student with an interesting choice in electives," Stiles told him, almost haughtily. He liked knowledge, especially that which would generally be useless in a normal conversation. "Your parents were a fan of Greek theology?"

"My parents did a fair share of cocaine," was the mild response.

It startled a laugh out of Stiles, and he covered his mouth. "I'm so sorry. That's not even funny."

"It's a little funny."

Stiles had to muffle a snort.

"So, I've told you my name..."

"Oh, is this quid pro quo? I didn't know names worked like that." Stiles grinned, biting his tongue at how silly that sounded.

"No, pet. 'I'll show you mine, so show me yours' comes later."

Stiles could barely breathe due to silent giggles. "But you've already seen mine!"

"Not all of you," Deucalion purred to him, and Stiles let out a very sexy squawk. "Do you want me to guess your name?"

"You'll never guess. It's Polish. It has one of those horrible Ls in it."

"Oh my."

"My nickname is Stiles," he said with a chuckle. "I picked it myself when I was six."

"That's adorable. I've gone by Duke, Cal, and even Leo for one very strange month."

That sounded like a story Stiles wanted to hear. "I like your real name."

Deucalion chuckled. "So do I. Shall I pick you up later, or would you like to meet at the theatre?"

Licking his lips, Stiles thought about it. Sure, it was safer to meet him there. But what a buzz kill it would be to sit in a car with the guy for two hours only to drive himself home. "You can pick me up. I'll send you my address."

"Alright. I'll send you some information too. Such as my address and my license plate number, to disperse amongst your friends so they do not worry for you. You're welcome to Facebook stalk me to make sure I'm not a murderer."

"That..." Okay, what even was that? Of course, he did want that information, because Lydia would want it. The fact that Deucalion had offered it was comforting, he supposed. It was actually the kind of thing that was so comforting it went right back around to being disconcerting again. "Sure?"

"Sorry, darling. I'm just used to being asked for such things, especially on a date with one as young as yourself."

How was he supposed to react to that? He didn't know, so he just cleared his throat. "Um, all that is great, but can I also have..." He felt weird saying this out loud for some dumb reason. He and Chris had communicated via chat. That had been easier. There had been less opportunity to embarrass himself. As much.

“Ask for anything. I have nothing to hide.”

"Can I have a picture of you?" Stiles wasn't sure if that sounded thirsty or sad. Was there a combination?

Deucalion was quiet, before he said, some hesitance in his voice, "Oh, of course, darling. Just a moment. I'll send it over now."

Stiles blinked at the ceiling, before his phone buzzed in his hand. 'Photo Received - TheDuke.' He thought about how he'd have to change that as he opened the message. Holy  _ shit. _ That--how--damn. He put his phone back to his ear. "Are you, perhaps, related to Angelina Jolie?" he asked, very seriously.

"I-I beg your pardon?" Hearing Deucalion stutter felt a little bit like a victory.

"Dude, your  _ cheekbones. _ They're insane! Also, do you seriously have professionally done photos of yourself on your phone? I don't know what to feel."

Deucalion laughed, a little louder and brighter than his little chuckles. "The picture is from my resumé."

"Uh?" Stiles tried.

"I'm a voice actor."

Of course he was. "Why does a voice actor need a head shot?" Stiles was incapable of not asking.

"Please only ask me questions I know the answer to."

Stiles let out a loud  _ ha! _ then covered his mouth again. "Do you do voices in movies or?"

"Video games, mostly."

"Shut up," Stiles blurted out, before he quickly added, "Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to say that." He had a feeling if he asked what video games, Deucalion would quickly get tired of him, so he resisted. He was definitely going to stalk the hell out of his Facebook in search of titles though. He needed to know. There had to be an IMDB out there.

"Speaking of, I do need to look through some scripts before tonight. The movies start at eight, so I'll be there at 7:30. I will let you know when I am on my way?" Deucalion said, possibly to avoid the questions that Stiles wasn't asking.

Would it be weird to have the autograph of the Daddy you're dating? Probably. It would depend which games.

"Sure, sounds great," Stiles told him, chewing his lip. He was excited for this. Anyone willing to feed him food covered in cheese in their own car was obviously someone possessing saint level patience and forgiveness.

"See you then, sweet one," Deucalion promised, and Stiles couldn't help his shiver.

After hanging up, Stiles laid on his bed, phone on his chest and hands clasped over it. He grinned wide at the ceiling, almost vibrating with excitement. He had a feeling this date would go well, better than last time. He liked Chris, he did. The dude kept sending him articles of haunted house and pictures of dogs. What wasn't to like? 

But he wanted to be attracted to someone. He wanted to be so attracted that he would be tempted to drop trou for them. He really, really wanted to get laid. But furthermore, he wanted to be with someone that set his senses alight. He wanted a Daddy, someone he could fall for and would be there to catch him.

His phone ringing all of a sudden stunned him out of his thoughts. Was Deucalion calling back? Did he want to offer a full background checkr? He looked. 'Peter' said his caller ID. Why would... Stiles cleared his throat a couple times before answering.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Hello, Stiles." Okay, Peter may not have been English, but his voice was still pretty damn hot.

Stiles did his best not to think about how he'd touched himself with that voice in his head the previous night. "H-hey, what's up?"

"I have something for you," Peter told him directly.

Stiles sat up, curious. "What is it?" 

"It's a... surprise. I can mail it to you, but I would love to give it to you in person."

This was weird. "Okay?"

"Are you busy for lunch? There's a little cafe I like to go to. It's not far from your campus."

Licking his lips, Stiles squinting at the wall. "If you say Rizzo's..."

Peter laughed delightedly, and it was a good sound. "The very same. Half past noon good for you?"

"Yeah, sure, sounds great."

"I look forward to seeing you, Stiles."

After hanging up, Stiles had a considerable confusion. He was about to have lunch with his boss. How weird was that? Peter had something to give him. What could it possibly be? Was it something for his shows? Was it a rape whistle and a stern talk about dating guys you meet on the internet? Stiles had no idea.

Also, was it too weird to call Peter back and ask for a picture of him? Probably. Also, it wasn't like Peter would abduct him and stash him in a sex dungeon. (Oh, was that a good or bad fantasy? More thoughts on that later.) He was gainfully employed by the guy. There were records.

He lifted his phone up anyway and shot off a text to Lydia,  **So, I may or may not be going to lunch with my boss.**

Forty-five seconds went by before a response came in,  **_Business lunch or pleasure lunch?_ **

**I don't know. He says he has something for me. He wasn't specific.**

**_Where are you going?_ ** Protective Lydia mode activate! 

**Rizzo's.**

**_Do you want me to come with you?_ **

Stiles snorted. Lydia would probably stab Peter with her stiletto if he did anything untoward.  **No, Lyds, I'm good. I'll send you a text when I'm out of lunch.**

**_By 2pm. Don't make me come up there._ **

**You're my favorite.**

**_I know. :)_ **

Stiles bit his lip.  **I have a date tonight.** He then quickly added,  **With someone who is not my boss.**

**_Do tell?_ **

**Want to see his picture?** That was a rhetorical question because of course, she did. He sent it over without waiting for her to answer.

**_Sweet baby Jesus._ ** was her response.

Stiles laughed. He told her all about Deucalion: what he did, how dry his humor was, how he was  _ English. _ Stiles would never be over that. When he told her about how freely he offered his personal information, Lydia had seemed suspicious too. He promised to forward everything to her when she asked for it.

 

* * *

 

Rizzo's wasn't a big place, but it was popular. Lunchtime was especially busy as it was breakfast time for most college students. The prices were good. There was some vegan stuff for the picky eaters and some greasy stuff for the people like Stiles. He walked in, and there was a line at the counter already. He could smell coffee, fresh bread, and burgers on the grill. He looked around, trying to spot Peter.

There were some older guys, but as he looked at them, he recognized them. There was the software engineering professor with his big glasses and small, insanely powerful laptop with the biohazard decal. Then there was the kinesiology head with a green smoothie and wristbands. Then there was the oily guy in the darkest corner. Stiles wasn't sure what subject he taught. He just knew people called him Professor Snape.

Was Peter not here yet? Stiles looked at his phone. He wasn't early or anything. He glanced around again, scooting out of the way of a busser with a tray full of glasses and plates. There were a couple guys he didn't know. Was Peter the blond guy by the counter who was flirting with a barista and making her uncomfortable? He hoped not. Was Peter the older, gray-haired guy by the window? He was kind of cute, so maybe--no. He was getting up to greet a female student, hugging her.

Stiles spotted someone else. He was sitting by the display of pastries, seemingly engrossed in whatever he was reading on his tablet. He was older, distinguished, and painfully handsome. He had black hair, slicked back neatly, and a perfectly trimmed goatee. His t-shirt was a deep blue with a collar that plummeted down in a V to show off his thick neck and beginnings of a pelt on his chest. The sleeves clung to thick biceps, which were connected to strong, corded forearms and big hands. His jeans were dark and tight. Were those motorcycle boots? Wait, was that a leather jacket on the back of his chair? Oh shit, that was a helmet on the table.

Stiles was staring. He was seriously just standing there, looking at this man. But he couldn't help it. He wanted to ride bitch on his guy's bike. He wanted to feel those big hands do tender and rough things to his body. He wanted that goatee to rub the insides of his thighs raw. He just... wanted. All he could think as he gawked was  _ Daddy. _

He should stop staring, maybe at least close his mouth. Oh no, the guy was looking up from his tablet. Stiles met his eyes, and he panicked on the inside as his body he refused to move. This was how someone got labeled a creeper. 

But then... the man smiled.  _ Yum. _ He set his tablet down and stood, beckoning Stiles over, so over Stiles went, much like a moth to the flame. Never had he been so willing to be burned alive.

"Hello, Stiles," the man said, and holy shit, he was Peter. Not only was he walking wet dream, but his voice was even more delicious in person.

"Guh," Stiles said with his natural brilliance, standing right in front of Peter, who smelled terrific. Would it be weird to lick him? Yes. Well, maybe not to a werewolf, but probably to literally everyone else in the cafe.

Peter tipped his head just a little. "Are you alright?"

Stiles snapped out his enthralled state, face burning just a little. God, what was he doing? This was his boss. He had never claimed to have good judgment about, well, anything ever, but he had already established in his own mind that there was nothing to be had between them.

He just had spank bank material for the rest of his life now.

Peter's eyes were so fucking blue.

"Yeah, I'm good," he said, clearing his throat. "Just, uh, long night of studying?"

"Did you want something? Coffee or tea?" Peter suggested, gesturing to the chair across from his own.

Stiles more or less tumbled down into it. "I, uh, yeah, I could probably go for a coffee that's 80% ice cream." He dug his wallet out to look at what cash he had on hand. He had a ten dollar bill. That could probably get him a coffee and a sandwich, but then he wouldn't have enough for a tip. That would make him feel bad. He could use his card, he guessed.

Peter's hand laid over his, covering his wallet and fingers. Jesus, he was so warm. Like, snuggle under the covers on a cold night kind of comforting warm. Peter seemed like the kind of guy that would take someone special to a ski resort and envelop them in his arms while sitting on a fur rug in front of a fireplace. It took a second for Stiles to blink that thought away and look up.

There was a smirk on Peter's face, one that made Stiles's stomach twist. "Please, Stiles, put that away. I invited you out. That means I'm paying. Now, what would you like?"

Stiles's favorite coffee order fell out of his mouth before he could think to stop it.

"Got it. Now, what is your favorite thing to eat here?"

"Grilled chicken panini with mozzarella and roasted red peppers," Stiles supplied.

"Soup or kettle chips?"

"Kettle chips." Stiles usually got tomato soup, but if he slurped in front of Peter, he might just die on the spot.

Peter stood, going over to the counter. Stiles was a creature of no self-restraint, so he stared right at Peter's ass. What a fantastic ass it was. Stiles wanted to touch it every day for the rest of his life.

Numbly, he pulled out his phone and sent a text to Lydia, **Help.**

Immediately, she replied with,  **_Where are you? Rizzo's still? Turn on your tracking so I can come get you._ **

The laugh that Stiles let out was thready. **No, Lyds, everything's fine. It's just. Peter. He's beautiful. Permission to let him carry me into the sunset?**

**_No. Bad. Down boy._ **

Stiles whined to himself.  **But Lyds, I want to use his butt as a pillow.**

**_He is your BOSS STILES CALM YOUR THIRST_ **

Stiles knew that when Lydia didn't use entirely crafted punctuation and grammar, then she meant business. It wasn't often that she screamed at him over text, or at all in person. He tried to rein himself back in. **He really is gorgeous though.**

**_I believe you. What did he have for you?_ **

Oh, right. Stiles forgot.  **TBD. He hasn't given it to me yet.** He glanced around the table, then under it. There was a plain white box beneath Peter's chair. Then he set up as Peter came back with a numbered table marker and their drinks, balanced easily on the one hand.

"What could you possibly be looking for?" Peter asked, an amused expression on his handsome face.

"Uh," Stiles mumbled, shoving his phone back into the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie. "...Making sure there aren't any... roaches?"

Peter let out a snort, setting Stiles's coffee in front of him before sitting. He leaned down and picked up the box under his chair and handed it over. "You are a terrible liar. It's adorable."

Stiles took the box and didn't remark on his skills in deception because normally he was pretty good at lying, but he was so flustered around Peter. He couldn't help but feel and act completely stupid. He took a long swig of his double chocolate chip ice cream and coffee monstrosity to try and compose himself. Then he opened the box. Inside was some sheets of bubble wrap--the boring kind that didn't pop--, and he pushed those aside to the prize they were hiding.

Stiles's brain immediately crashed and took half a minute to reboot. The whole while he just stared. "No," he said in awe, looking at Peter. "You did not."

Peter smiled into the lip of his cup of coffee. "I did."

Gently lifting the device from the box, Stiles looked it over. "I may or may not start crying." It was an EMF meter: a good one. It looked like it had a digital display with a sound alert. There was a customizing panel on the front, and he didn't understand what it all was. Then he noticed the instruction booklet in the box.

After a quick readthrough, he was pretty sure he was going to faint. He looked at Peter again. "You--" He looked back down. "It detects cold spots and turns on both the EMF meter  _ and _ an EVP recorder." He dragged in a ragged breath. "I'm going to pass out."

"Please don't," Peter said with a laugh.

"This... This had to be incredibly expensive," Stiles said, laying it back in the box. "I can't just--"

"You can, I assure you," Peter said, setting his coffee down. "I have a nephew with a couple engineering degrees. He all but jumped at the chance to build this when I made the suggestion. I'm sure he'd thank you for the opportunity to get rid of spare parts he had lying about."

Sucking his lip into his mouth and chewing at it a moment, Stiles considered the ultimate ghost hunting device before him. Honestly, when would he ever have the opportunity to acquire something like this again? The answer was never, at least never again for free. He released his lip and smiled at Peter. "Thank you. I really appreciate it."

Peter looked at him a moment, before he dropped his eyes, smiling. Was that hesitance? Whatever for? "I'm glad, Stiles. I wanted to do something nice for you. I know that things haven't been going your way lately, what with the incident was Isaac and the date with Horacio. Also, Chris called me and told me how the date with him went."

"Oh, yeah," Stiles said, rubbing the back of his head. "It was a nice date. It's too bad that we don't really have any chemistry."

"Of course. That happens." Peter nodded before he licked his lips. "It can take a while to find someone you click with. Or discover them when they're right under your nose."

Stiles nodded in agreement. "I have a date tonight. Maybe it'll go better."

Peter seemed to go still, staring at him with a blank expression. "Oh," he said finally before he sat back and flicked his eyes away, sipping his drink. "Another of your viewers, I assume?"

Was it colder in here all of the sudden?

Stiles started anxiously toying with the bubble wrap in the box. "Yeah, uh, TheDuke?"

Peter's brows went up. Was the judgment? Who was he judging? "Deucalion is an interesting man. He is wealthy and attentive. He could probably take you anywhere in the world you'd like to go." 

Unsure why Peter was suddenly and blandly saying that as if reciting from a brochure, Stiles dropped his hands to his lap and chewed his lip again. "Are you mad that I'm--?"

"Here you go, gentlemen," a server said as she set their food in front of them. "Enjoy!" She snatched up the table marker and walked off.

Wordlessly but still awkwardly, they started to eat. Stiles's panini was divine, and his fresh kettle chips were crunchy and just the right level of salty. Peter had gotten a chopped salad and a piece of key lime pie. 

Stiles kept wanting to ask why Peter got so cagey. Hadn't he said he was fine with Stiles dating his viewers? Was he actually not? Was Stiles messing with the reputation of the site? He probably had been from the very start.

"Here," Peter said suddenly, sliding the pie over and standing up. "I should get back to the office."

"You have an office?" was the first thing Stiles could manage to say. He wanted to ask Peter to stay, to explain himself, to apologize to the man for being a disappointment.

"Figuratively," Peter said, giving him a quick smirk as he pulled on his jacket. "I work from home. But I do have some work waiting for me."

"Okay," Stiles said, glancing down at the pie then back at him. "Thanks again for the reader."

Peter nodded before he reached over and squeezed Stiles's shoulder. "I hope you enjoy your date and find what you're looking for." He stepped back, grabbed his helmet and went.

Stiles hadn't even been able to watch him leave. All he'd been capable of was laying his hand where Peter's had left his shoulder warm and tingling. "Oh holy shit," he told the piece of pie. "I like my boss."

 

* * *

 

Deucalion had a large car. It wasn’t even a compensation car. It was genuinely large with lots of legroom, and a backseat meant for clumsy prom night sex. Stiles couldn’t help but give a small, wistful sigh as he looked at it. His prom had been so uneventful, much like how his homecoming had been so boring he'd fallen asleep on Scott while sitting in gym bleachers and watching other people dance.

"I like your car," Stiles said finally. He was off to a great start with small talk. Mostly he'd just kept looking away or staring too intensely while trying not to look away.

"Why thank you," Deucalion said, looking far less socially inept than Stiles. "I call her The Boat." He flicked his eyes to Stiles then back at the road. "You can easily see why."

"She is a strong, sturdy vessel," Stiles said, looking out the window.

Deucalion laughed softly.

When they got to the theatre, the person at the drive-by kiosk gave them a menu. She pointed out the FM station they needed to tune to for the movie audio. She also gave them a marker that lit up to signal their server when they were ready to order. After they find a spot to park, Deucalion rolled the windows down partway then turned off the ignition but left the electric on. Then he turned the overhead light on and handed over the menu.

Stiles was glad to have something to focus on. He wanted a plate of chili cheese fries. That was a must. Oh, and they had thick shakes? There was a vanilla one with Reese's Cups bits that was calling his name.

"Don't judge me, but I usually get fried pickles and mozzarella sticks," Deucalion said, pulling Stiles's attention toward him. "One of the only perks to being a werewolf is consistency wonderful cholesterol." He flashed a smile.

Stiles laughed, hiding his face with the menu for a second before he got control of himself. "Let me guess; you can't gain weight?" When Deucalion shook his head, he sighed. "It's hard for me to put on pounds too. My metabolism is pretty high, but often I just forget to eat."

Nodding, Deucalion didn't comment, though he looked like he had a question on his mind. "A downside to being a werewolf is that I cannot get drunk, at least not by normal means."

"That sucks," Stiles told him before he unbuckled and turned much toward Deucalion. He if he tried his best, he could hopefully convince himself to stop thinking about Peter. This date had been his date, after all. It was the least he could do. "What are the abnormal means?"

"Chris gave you wolfsbane, didn't he?" Deucalion asked. At Stiles's nod, he went on, "It's a plant that inhibits our abilities. When mixed with alcohol, it slows our metabolism and lets us feel the effects." He let that lay for a second as Stiles's mind went wild. Then he added, "It can be dangerous, which is why it isn't recommended, especially for younger, turned wolves. I've been a wolf my whole life, so I have no basis of reference even to miss alcohol."

Stiles blinked at him. "I don't drink very much," he blurted out, unsure why he even cared to tell him. But he went on, "Y-you know, underage drinking is illegal and all that." God, why was he babbling? He couldn't even look at Deucalion's face now. "I haven't even been to a college party!" That was true. He was not popular.

"Are you afraid I'll be disappointed in you, Stiles?"

That made Stiles turn his eyes toward him. How did he answer that question? Maybe he didn't want Deucalion to be disappointed, but not because he usually gave a shit. It would be easier for him to be Deucalion's perfect baby boy if he knew the part to play. He twisted his hands in his lap and didn't answer.

Deucalion reached down and released the locking mechanism on the center console, that way he could flip it up and leave nothing between them but space easy to cross. "I'm not that kind of Daddy, Stiles. I wouldn't want you to drink all the time, because nobody likes an alcoholic, but..." He reached over and squeezed Stiles's knee. "Of course I want you to have fun. Drinking parties during college are a required experience. You need to attempt beer pong at least once."

Stiles laughed at that. He looked at Deucalion's hand before he took it with his and squeezed it. "Yeah, I have no hand-eye coordination."

That made Deucalion smile. He picked up the menu and gave it a once-over. "Oh, they have a sampler basket now." He lifted his eyes. They were so beautiful. Stiles wished he could appreciate them more. He certainly appreciated that Deucalion liked all that terrible food. "Chili cheese fries for you?"

Stiles nodded, watching Deucalion put the indicator on the roof of the car. The server came over shortly, and Deucalion talked to him briefly. Watching his profile, Stiles thought about what it would be like to him his face, to have him, in his life, to see him all the time, to wake up next to him. Did Deucalion snore? Did he watch TV in bed? Did he wear reading glasses? Did he drink coffee in the morning? Did he take just showers or did he bathe sometimes? Was he grumpy in the morning?

Looking down at his own hands, Stiles felt a wave of guilt that made his mouth taste like bile. He wasn't an expert in dating, but he was pretty sure that he wasn't supposed to rationalize what traits he could tolerate in a partner right off the bat. He rubbed his eyes. He just needed to try harder. 

After the server left, Deucalion reached over and took Stiles's hand again. It was a nice, easy touch, once that Stiles felt he could get used to if he was exposed enough. He licked his lips before he scooted over and leaned his whole side against Deucalion's. "Thanks for taking me out," he said softly.

Deucalion's arm came around his shoulders, and it was just rational for Stiles to lean his head to the side, so it was nestled just under Deucalion's jaw. He liked this, he thought. It was easy. This Daddy was sweet. He wasn't pushy like Horacio had been. Would they have chemistry too?

That thought was interrupted by a tray of food appearing in The Boat's window. Stiles sat up just enough to take his huge platter of chili cheese fries. Jesus. "I hope you like fat boys," he said as straightforward as possible.

"I think I'd like you any way I could have you."

Stiles looked over at Deucalion, the fry he'd had poised in front of his face dropping a glob of cheese back into the tray with a  _ plop! _ That was probably the most earnest thing anyone had said to him, which was saying something because he had Scott, who was a very excitable puppy of a guy.

But, Deucalion didn't look eager. He wasn't even looking at Stiles. He was dipping a fried pickle chip in Ranch and popping it in his mouth. Did that mean he wasn't as enthused about this as Stiles felt they both should be? 

Deucalion looked over at him, lifting his brows. "What is it, pet?" he asked before he flicked his gaze down to Stiles's mouth. "You know, if you keep your lips parted like that, I might have to kiss them."

Stiles let out a manic little giggle before he turned forward again and started shoving fries into his face. Did he want to kiss Deucalion? Well, of course, he did. He wanted to mack on a Hot Daddy™, but was he ready? He'd kissed Chris on their date. Had there been a spark, he might have done more.

So, it wasn't that he was a prude or wanted to save himself until marriage. He was ready to toss his V-Card into the wind, but... he also wanted it to mean something. Would it mean something with Deucalion, or would he just shut his eyes and think about a particular someone else?

**Please Tune to FM 117.8** said the black text on the white screen.

Deucalion did as instructed, turning to the right station on The Boat's radio. "Is it alright that I turn the light off?" he asked. "It'll be easy enough to see with the glow from the screen."

Stiles wanted to say no, wanted to be able to see Deucalion. What happened if he saw his profile in shadow and his mind started morphing it into a completely different person? He'd attempt to do his best to pay attention to the movie.

Except, the original Night of the Living Dead was very dorky. It managed to keep his attention for about thirty minutes, which was pretty impressive, but then he kept looking at Deucalion to see his reaction at the silly special effects. His mind didn't turn Deucalion's face into Peter's, thankfully, since there was enough light. 

He cuddled a bit closer, and Deucalion's arm came around him again, squeezing. This was nice. Yeah, he could get used to this. He just had to keep telling himself that it was for the best.

Okay, even that sounded a bit like conditioning or Stockholm Syndrome in his head. He didn't want it to be like that. He wanted to like someone, wanted to kiss him, wanted to be held by him, and wanted to have his insides clench every time he was touched by him. That person could be Deucalion.

It was time to switch tactics.

Stiles tried to be smooth and graceful, but he quickly remembered he was just a long stick boy of pointy joints as he climbed up to sit side saddle in Deucalion's lap and accidentally honked in the process. His face burned, but he was determined.

"What are you up to?" Deucalion asked amusement in his tone, hands settling on Stiles's hips.

Stiles replied by attacking his mouth, causing him to grunt like it might have hurt. But Stiles didn't care, because he was determined to do this, even if it wasn't perfect. He kept their lips mashed together because brute force always solved everything. But then Deucalion tipped his head to the side, changing the angle, and it was easier for Stiles to open his mouth and lick at Deucalion's tongue. 

Stiles couldn't decide if he liked the taste of fried food, cheese, chili, and Ranch, but he wouldn't let it distract him. He sucked at Deucalion's tongue like he was hungry for him, hands grasping at his shoulders. He had to remind himself, over and over, that this was what he wanted. Deucalion would be enough. It would just take a bit.

"You're more aggressive than I'd thought you'd be," Deucalion told him when they parted for air. "You don't have to--"

Stiles kissed him again, shutting him up. Stiles was trying to concentrate, dammit, and if Deucalion started listing things he didn't have to do, it would only make it worse. Deucalion attempted to speak a couple more times, but Stiles kept cutting him off. He could like this kissing if he could get used to it!

But then Deucalion's caught his arms, and he was lifted entirely out of Deucalion's lap and deposited back in his seat. Stiles blinked, alarmed and just a little bit fascinated by that sudden show of strength. Deucalion kept a hand on Stiles's shoulder, probably to keep him from vaulting over again. Or, on inspection of Deucalion's face and the want evident there, to ground himself.

Stiles licked his lips, finding them a bit swollen.

Deucalion closed his eyes and turned his head away, so yeah, there was a fight for control happening there. Was this where someone suggested they move to the back seat? Or maybe...

Stiles tipped forward to slide his hand up Deucalion's thigh.

His hand was snatched and held up. "What  _ are _ you doing, darling?" Deucalion asked, looking puzzled and just a little bit disappointed.

Stiles's resolve started to crumble. "I just... You don't want to?"

"Of course, I do," Deucalion told him, though he put Stiles's hand well away from his lap. "But why are you in such a rush? We have all the time in the world."

"I just... wanted to try to..." Stiles didn't know what to say.

"Try to what?"

The imploring look on Deucalion's face hurt to look at, so he turned his gaze away. "Um." The words wouldn't come. His muscles tensed up, and his eyes started to sting. This shouldn't have been so hard.

"Why won't you look at me, Stiles?"

Stiles swallowed and wished he were stronger, wished he weren't some terrible coward. What were the words he could say that would make everything okay?

"You're thinking about someone else, aren't you?"

Lifting his eyes, Stiles knew his expression was enough of a giveaway because Deucalion sighed and slouched in his seat. "I'm trying not to," he said, knowing that wouldn't make anything better.

Deucalion rubbed his fingers over his lips before he sat up to turn on the overhead light and shut off the radio. The silence was painful. Then Deucalion said, "By using me as a distraction?"

“No!” Stiles instantly said, because a distraction would mean he didn't want to forget his feelings for Peter, just ignore them for a minute. He wanted to get rid of those feelings completely. “I’m trying to like you instead.” he winced at his own words, because they sounded worse outloud.

Deucalion looked pained. “Lovely. So I am a consolation prize?” He shook his head as Stiles wished he could sink through the car and into the ground forever. “A substitution isn't better. You like someone or you don't. You can't force it. Everyone gets hurt in the end.”

Stiles chewed at his lip and looked at his hands. This was the opposite of how he'd wanted this night to go.

"Another one of your viewers?" Deucalion asked. "I am the third one you've dated."

Squeezing his eyes shut, Stiles managed a wounded little noise.

"I don't mean it like that. Who is he?"

Letting out a long sigh, Stiles looked over at Deucalion. "KingDaddy?" he said, and it was almost an apology.

Deucalion stared at him a long moment before his eyes rolled up. "Not again," he said, putting his elbow on the door and his face in his hand. "Christ."

"Again?" Stiles's eyes grew wide and horrified. "What do you mean  _ again? _ "

Deucalion let out a rueful snort. "It was--ah--two years ago? There was a baby boy I liked. He was interested in Peter but never told him and eventually agreed to go out with me. We were both pretty miserable for a few months. He just kept getting angrier. Everything I did would set him off." He rubbed his thumb back and forth across his bottom lip a moment. Then he looked at Stiles. "I am not Peter."

Stiles lowered his eyes. The guilt was in full swing, and he felt his food might revisit the world in a minute.

"You know him, the baby boy," Deucalion said, and he lifted his brows pointedly when Stiles looked up.

"Wait," Stiles said after a moment, blinking rapidly. "Are you talking about... Isaac?"

"Yes. I have suspicions that's the real reason he set his Daddies on you like that. Some sort of ploy for Peter's attention and to send you running. He's a very bitter boy."

Stiles didn't know how to react to that. "Am I going to end up like Isaac?" The idea made him feel like he was going to puke everywhere even more.

Deucalion seemed to think about it before he shrugged. "I couldn't say. I don't know you well enough. I do know, however, that Isaac never told Peter about his feelings. So you should probably start with that."

Already shaking his head, Stiles told him, "I can't tell him either. He's my boss."

"He doesn't have to be," Deucalion told him with a wave of his hand.

"Huh?"

Deucalion looked at him like he had thought he was brighter than he was proving to be. "Do you need the money?" he asked, brows lifting. "Peter is quite well off. Family fortune aside, the website if very profitable. He wouldn't mind supporting you. It comes with the territory."

"No, I don't need the money," Stiles said after a few seconds of staring like an idiot. He rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean, the money's nice, but I was just... curious? Then I found I really liked the attention."

"Would one man's undivided attention be enough?"

Stiles nodded. That was what he wanted more than anything.

Deucalion spread his hands. "Then what is stopping you?"

Was it really that simple?

"What if he doesn't feel the same for me?" Stiles asked slowly. It was messed up to ask for dating advice for someone he'd had every intention of going down on a minute ago, but that was where his life was now. Then again, werewolves. So, what part of this was typical?

Deucalion was looking at him like he was simple again. "Which is better?" He lifted one palm up. "Temporary disappointment from which you can ultimately move on? Or--" He put up his other hand. "Guilt that eats you up inside?"

"You have a point." Stiles already felt overwhelmingly guilty, and he didn't want it to get worse. He licked his lips. "Are you mad at me?"

"No," Deucalion told him, shaking his head. "I'm not pleased, sure, but you are impossible to be mad at."

"Really?"

"You're kind of like a defenseless prey animal that's too pathetic to kill," Deucalion told him, showing his teeth in a grin. "I'd feel awful if I hurt you."

Stiles blinked very slowly and very blandly. "Thanks."

Deucalion laughed, and it was a happy one, which was good.

They stared at the screen for a minute or two, the car still too bright and too quiet. Finally, Stiles looked over at him. "We're never going to talk after this, are we?"

"That would be best, Stiles."

They didn't stay for the second feature.

 

* * *

 

Stiles sat in front of his computer, a half-cocked plan in his head and an empty Monster can in his hand, his fingertips crushing it. He was going to do this. He just had to get his bearings. Breathe in, breathe out. He opened up a message to KingDaddy.

**HaloCrosse:** Hey, you on?

**KingDaddy:** Hello, Stiles. How was your date?

Stiles tossed the empty can in the direction of the waste bin. He licked his lips and put his fingers to the keys again.

**HaloCrosse:** I have to put in my two weeks.

After a long moment of nothing, the message  _ KingDaddy is typing... _ appeared and vanished a dozen times. Then it was gone.

Stiles's soul almost left its mortal vessel behind when his phone started ringing. It was Peter. Uh-oh, this was going off-course. He picked it up, hit the green button and put it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Stiles, are you alright? What happened?" Peter asked, sounding harried, maybe even a little bit scared.

Stiles grinned to himself. "I'm fine. Nothing bad happened. We just talked."

"Oh." Now Peter sounded confused.

"We, uh, we talked about you," Stiles went on, rubbing his hand up and down his leg for something to do with it. It was that or chew the skin on the sides of his nails. He was trying not to do that anymore.

"Oh?" More confusion with a hint of suspicion. "I promise whatever he told you about me isn't true unless it was good."

Stiles snorted out a laugh. "We weren't gossiping about you."

"Was it him that convinced you to quit?"

"No--well, yeah, but not for a bad reason or anything."

"Then why?" Peter's voice was a bit worried now.

"Because..." Stiles took in a deep breath and let it out. "Because I want to ask you out on a date, and I can't do that if you're my boss."

The line went so quiet that Stiles pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the screen to make sure they hadn't lost their connection. The seconds in the call ticked away. He put the phone back to his ear. "Peter?" he asked softly.

Peter let out a small laugh, which turned into a bigger laugh, which dissolved into  _ giggling. _

Stiles had to laugh too because that was such a weird and pleasant sound. "Is that a yes or what?"

"I know the perfect location," Peter told him, having regained his composure.

"Oh yeah?" Stiles asked, grinning hard enough to hurt himself. "And where is that?"

"It's a surprise.

"What kind of surprise?"

"Let's just say," Peter told him with such a rich, purr of a voice that Stiles let out a shiver. "You'll want to bring your reader."

"Homigawd."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -hides behind computer monitor- There's is only one chapter and a short epilogue left. I'm excited about their date. I've had it planned out since the very beginning. -squeak-
> 
> Come say hi to me on [my tumblr!](http://thesushiowl.tumblr.com/search/prompt+week) I take a week a month for prompts!
> 
> Chapter 9 will be up on the 14th.


	9. Chapter 9

“You’re going on a date with who?” 

Stiles tried his sweetest, most innocent grin and was met with the most unimpressed stare from Lydia. He was surrounded by his friends, and he’d just broke the news to them that he had a new date set, and it was with the one person that he actually wanted to be with.

“Who is Peter?” Scott asked.

Stiles opened his mouth to tell him, ready to explain Peter’s awesomeness in full.

“Peter owns the cam site that Stiles is on,” Lydia said first, taking the wind right out of Stiles’s sails. He gave her a little glare, and she glared right back, her eyebrows pulled into an intimidating arrow.

“Your boss?” Scott asked, his eyebrows doing the bushy concerned shape.

Stiles sighed, looking at the ceiling of his apartment for a second. “Look,” he began, feeling suddenly like he was on trial. That was partially his fault, as he’d sat them all down and stood in front of them like he wanted them to judge him.”Yes. Peter is my boss, but only for right now. I already put in my two weeks. Then I asked him out. So. Yeah.”

They were quiet for a long time.

“Where are you going?” Kira asked because she had all the important questions.

Shrugging, Stiles went to plop in his armchair, which was his only other place to sit in his apartment. “I dunno. He said it was a surprise.” He stretched out his long legs and rubbed at his belly. He was full of pizza. He’d eaten most of a large by himself to gear himself up to talk about his date with his friends.

“A… surprise?” Kira asked, failing to keep the worry off her face.

“A good surprise!” he said quickly. “He said to bring my reader, so it has to be good.” At their blank faces, he blinked, then gasped. “I haven’t shown you my reader!” He hopped up and ran to grab it.

“You’re going to a haunted house?” was Kira’s next question as looked at the reader, which Scott was turning this way and that like a Rubix cube.

“Yeah. I’m excited. He was the first person to show any interest in my major, y’know?” Stiles appreciated that she was trying to progress the conversation instead of quietly shooting daggers in his direction like a certain strawberry-blonde. He understood why Lydia was upset. He was doing the one thing she had said, explicitly, not to do.

If she could empathically discern how he felt, she would have understood.

When Scott and Kira were leaving, Scott tugged him into a hug and patted him on the back hard enough to burp him. They both laughed. “I’m happy for you, man,” Scott told him, squeezing his arm. “I hope you get everything you want.” 

Stiles choked on a laugh, feeling emotional all of the sudden. Scott always understood him, even if he expressed it in few words. “Thanks, Scottie.” He patted his friend’s shoulder then hugged Kira as she put her arms around him.

When they were gone, Stiles closed the door and looked over at Lydia. She was standing by the couch, looking down at the reader on the coffee table. She looked like she was doing complicated equations in her head.

“Got more complaints?” he asked her, actually a bit nervous what she might say. She wasn’t good enough at rationalizing to make him cancel his date, but she was good enough to make him worry.

“Plenty,” she said, turning toward him and putting her hands in the pockets of her skirt. “I’m worried that you’re going to an undisclosed location with a man you’ve only met once. He hasn’t even given you any info about himself. Do you know his last name?”

Lydia would come at him with a critical question right out of the gate. 

Stiles pressed his lips together and looked down at his feet. "No, but I didn't know Horacio's last name. I don't know Deucalion's--"

"You know literally everything else though."

"--Chris gave me his because I asked. I'm sure Peter would too."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Yeah, but they all told you where the date was taking place. A date in a surprise haunted location sounds like the premise for a slasher flick."

Stiles fought not to roll his eye, but only because he knew she'd punch him in the chest for it. "Lyds, he's my boss. If something happens to me, there's no way he could get away with it. He's connected to me in too many ways."

"The point is that nothing happens to you at all!" Lydia bit out through her teeth.

Stiles rocked back on his heels, surprised. "Nothing's gonna happen to me, I promise. Chris gave me some special mace for just this type of situation." The moment that was out, he knew that was a bit too much information, that it would bring up more questions than bring comfort.

"Special mace?" Lydia asked, eyes going narrow again. "Why would regular mace not be enough? What aren't you tell me? You better tell me right this second."

"Uh." Great. There was no way he was getting out of this. He was a good liar, but not when it came to her. She always saw right through his excuses. He licked his lips before he held up a finger.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he opened his texting app. Peter was right there at the top of his Recents.  **Is it okay if I tell my friend about werewolves?**

It took all of five seconds for Peter to respond with,  **Do you trust this friend?**

He looked up at Lydia, who was growing more and more agitated and concerned by the moment. She looked ready to barricade him in the apartment or sit on him like a mother hen to make sure he was safe.  **With my life.**

**Then yes.**

Stiles put his phone in his pocket again and straightened up. "Okay, remember that thing on the website we couldn't figure out? The paw graphic?"

She crossed her arms. "What about it?"

"It's not for bears or Daddies or anything sexual. It's for werewolves." He rubbed the back of his head, knowing that sounded absolutely batshit crazy.

She blinked at him. "Like..." Her mouth worked without sound a second before she cocked her head to the side. "Like furries?"

"No!" he gasped, eyes wide. "Not like furries. Like actual werewolves. You know, man-wolf? Man that becomes wolf? There was a weird movie with Michael J. Fox, and he plays basketball--"

"I  _ know  _ what a werewolf is, Stiles," Lydia interrupted, exasperated by his stereotypical anxious ranting. "Are you trying to tell me they're real?"

"You believe in ghosts, right?" At her nod, Stiles spread his hands. "Why are werewolves such a stretch?"

She gave him a look like he was daft. "Because there is no way that a society of shapeshifters could hide their moonlit romps, especially in an age of constant surveillance and cell phone with high res video, not to mention the destruction of forests that would force them out in the open. And don't even get me started on how they wouldn't be able to go to the hospital or anything to--"

"Okay, okay," Stiles said, putting his hands up. "I get it. You don't believe me. I know it sounds crazy."

Lydia shrugged. "All your ideas are a little crazy, Stiles."

“That’s what makes them awesome.” He shot a grin at her.

She just rolled her eyes. “You’ll be careful, right?”

“Always,” he said before he squawked when she punched him in the pec for that lie.

 

* * *

 

**Would you like me to bring my car, or are you comfortable on the back of a Harley?**

Well, that wasn't a text that Stiles had expected to get. He spat out the toothpaste foam in his mouth--he was brushing his teeth for the third time--and opened the message to respond.  **I've never been on the back of a bike before.**

**I've got an extra helmet. Just hold on tight. :)**

Stiles couldn't help his grin.  **Okay.**

When Peter arrived, he looked sexy as hell in his leather jacket and soft looking v-neck. Stiles definitely wanted on that in any way he could manage. Under that would be suitable too. Then Peter smiled at him, and all of Stiles's thoughts turned warm and gooey. He wanted to hold hands with this guy, wanted to watch mindless TV while tucked under his arm, wanted to wake up him Peter pressed against his back.

All these thoughts running through his head was probably why it took him a full thirty seconds of staring to realize he hadn't said anything yet. "H-hey!" he managed, wishing he had the ability to sink into the floor and disappear.

"Hello, Stiles," Peter replied, reaching out with what seemed to be deliberate slowness to cup Stiles's cheek. His hand was so warm, and Stiles leaned into the touch. "It's good to see you."

"You too," Stiles said, breathy and embarrassing.

Peter brushed his thumb over Stiles's cheek, but then pulled his hand away. Stiles wanted to ask why, wanted to beg Peter to keep touching him, just touch him anyway. "Are you ready to go?" Peter asked, smirking like he was amused.

Oh. Right. The date. "Yeah," he said, stepping out of his apartment and turning to lock the door.

"Aren't you forgetting your reader?" Yeah, Peter was definitely amused.

Stiles was suddenly aware of his lack of messenger bag and unlocked his door again. "Uh, be right back," he said, flinging himself into his apartment and hurrying to his bedroom.

His bag was on his desk, mocking him. He snatched it up and paused. Right there was an unopened box of condoms. He'd bought them before his date with Deucalion in anticipation for when they did the dirty on a later date. On impulse, he ripped open the box and took three off the strip. He stuffed them into a pocket in his bag and rushed back to the door.

"Okay!" he said once he was out. "I'm ready now." He locked the door and smiled at Peter before he boldly held out his hand. "Take me away." Nervousness made him any more weird than usual.

Peter wasn't put off at all, flashing a grin and taking the offered hand. He kept holding Stiles's hand in the elevator and then outside into the parking area. Peter's Harley looked how Stiles had always imagined they should, built strong, jet black with chrome and a little passenger seat up on top the back wheel.

"Here," Peter said, slowly letting go of Stiles's hand and taking his messenger bag from his shoulder. He opened up one of the two compartments on the back of the bike and put Stiles's bag inside. After securing it shut, he grabbed one of the helmets and handed it over. "To protect that pretty head of yours."

"Oh jeez," Stiles huffed with a laugh, pulling the helmet on. "I put product in my hair and everything."

Peter laughed, and it was a good sound, one that made Stiles hot in the face. At least he could hide it with the helmet. He felt something weird against his cheek once he had it on, and he poked at it before he realized it was the chin strap. A+ for safety. He pulled the strap out and blindly tried to get the two pieces together. He was pretty sure he had them twisted around.

"Here," Peter finally said, reaching over and taking the straps to snap the buckle together. "How's that? Not too tight?" He stuck two fingers under the strap, giving it a tug and brushing his knuckles under Stiles's chin.

"Perfect," Stiles managed to croak, and he willed his body to stop getting so turned on by small touches.

"Excellent." He grabbed his own helmet and slipped it onto his head. "Hop on." He patted the back seat of the bike.

Stiles wobbled up onto it, having to use Peter's hand as balance. When Peter slid smoothly on in front of him, he grabbed onto him like he had been told to do. Peter didn't complain, starting up the bike and backing out of the spot with backward steps of his feet, checking his mirrors as he did so.

When they finally started rolling, Stiles had thought it would be a scary, jarring experience, like a roller coaster or that one time when he and Scott had been twelve and incredibly stupid and had rolled down one of the hills his hometown was known for in a pair of grocery carts. Bad idea. Broken arms and concussions for everybody. This wasn't like that at all. Sure, it was loud and there was wind, but it was like gliding. He didn't feel scared, but he went ahead and clung to Peter anyway.

He felt him up as carefully as he could. Peter had a flat, hard stomach, and a broad chest. He was so warm too, almost feverish. Was that a werewolf thing? Had Stephanie Meyer been right about the personal space heater? Not that he read those books, of course. No. Of course not. (Okay, maybe.)

It felt nice being pressed up against Peter, not just because he was painfully attractive and intelligent and liked Stiles in spite of his nerdiness, but there was something at the core of Stiles that felt calm around him. He didn't know how to explain it, and he didn't even want to try, because it would just drive him crazy. Instead, he would let Peter have control and just  _ be _ for once.

Stiles fell into a kind of daze as he rode, and he really didn't care where they ended up. But when Peter pulled off the road, Stiles looked up and balked. "Does that say  _ House of Fries? _ " he asked as they slid into a parking spot.

"This place has the best curly fries within one-hundred miles," Peter said, shutting off the engine. "You said you liked them."

He had? When? It must have been some throwaway comment from one of their chats. They hadn't discussed food. Had Peter remembered that from him just saying it in passing?

He had? When? It must have been some throwaway comment from one of their chats. They hadn't discussed food. Had Peter remembered that from him just saying it in passing? That... Stiles didn't know what to feel. It was insanely sweet, for sure, that Peter had been paying that much attention. It made him wonder if Peter had been interested all this time and just never said anything because he didn't want to come off as a creepy boss.

There had been times that Peter had gotten closed off when Stiles had talked about dates with his viewers. Had he been  _ jealous? _ Stiles felt gooey and happy now.

Peter led him into the food joint by the hand, and Stiles flushed as he felt people glancing their way. It wasn't that he was embarrassed to be seen with a guy, far from it. He was just delighted to be with someone, to get to express himself to someone who didn’t judge him and by extension show everybody else.

Peter squeezed his hand as they stood in front of the counter, and Stiles had to wonder if he could sense Stiles's doubt. He hoped not. He did want anything getting between them. He squeezed Peter's hand back, sending a smile his way.

They got their food to go. "I want to show you the site and tell you about its history as we eat," Peter explained as he walked out. Stiles nodded like a bobblehead in return, excited for this adventure. He got onto the back of the bike, and they were off.

When they pulled into the drive of a little one-story in an older neighborhood, Stiles looked up at the house and immediately got goosebumps. It wasn't a spooky house, because the good ones rarely were. It seemed well-kept, though the windows were boarded up. The lawn had been mowed recently. It was almost inviting. 

"What do you think?" Peter asked, slipping off the bike and holding his hand out to Stiles.

Stiles grabbed onto him and tumbled partway to the ground. He unsnapped the strap and pulled off the helmet, staring at the house. "What's the history?" he asked, turning wide, excited eyes on Peter.

Taking off his helmet, Peter went to get the food out of one of the bags. "The house has only ever had one occupant, an older man that moved here after his kids left the nest and his wife died. He passed away, and for a couple of years there was an angry presence that attacked anyone that came in." He offered Stiles his container of curly fries and burger. "It's been quiet as of late though."

Stiles would have preferred it to be anything but quiet. "Was anyone ever hurt?" He stuffed a few fries in his mouth.

"I don't think anyone stayed long enough to get hurt. Most people don't go into a haunted house looking for ghosts." He smirked, unwrapping his burger.

Stiles chuckled to himself. "Yeah."

"I like that you're not most people."

Stiles blinked, surprised, before he grinned at Peter. "Good. I don't plan on changing any time soon."

They ate in silence for a while. Stiles stared at the house in consideration. "How did this not make the news? Or even the paranormal investigation forums?" He wasn't afraid to admit he was that kind of nerd. They were helpful though, especially when it came to buying used textbooks for his parascience courses.

"Real hauntings rarely come to light," Peter said, balling up his burger wrapper and reaching for his fries. He took one then tilted the box toward Stiles, who happily took some since he'd devoured all of his almost instantly. "Even if the family had wanted to bring public attention to it, people in the community would have convinced them not to."

"In the community?" Stiles echoed, eyes going a fraction wider. "Ohmigawd, is this where you tell me there are paranormal cops or whatever?"

Peter snorted, shaking his head. "No, but there people that have been tasked with protecting the paranormal from normal citizens. You should know. You went on a date with one."

It took Stiles an embarrassing amount of time to connect the dots. "Wait, Chris?"

Peter nodded. "That's the one."

"Damn," Stiles said, looking down at his shoes. "No wonder he gave me all of that stuff to protect myself."

"Did you bring any of it tonight?"

Stiles shook his head. "Nah. I'm never that prepared. I guess you'll have to protect me."

A laugh bubbled out of Peter, and he slung his arm around Stiles's shoulders, leaning in to put his lips to his ear. "Gladly."

A shiver rippled up and down through Stiles's body. Were he a weaker man, he might suggest that they forget the haunted house and go find someplace dark and soft. But he wanted to go in there, wanted to take some readings. He was not leaving until he did.

"Wait," Stiles said as they went up onto the porch. "We aren't about to break into this house, are we?" Peter turned and quirked a brow up at him. "Okay, I would probably be okay with that. But, are we?"

"No," Peter said, leaning down to pick up an empty flower pot and reveal a key underneath. "The owners know we are here. My niece is a realtor." He picked up the key. "Not for this part of town, but hey, who's keeping track?"

Stiles laughed, trying to muffle the sound with his hand. He followed Peter inside, squinting in the darkness before he started a little as Peter handed him a mini flashlight. "You don't need it?" he asked, taking it and hitting the little button on the end to illuminate the walkway in front of them.

"I can see in the dark," Peter informed him, a flash of white teeth in the dim.

"Well, that's the coolest thing in the world." Stiles took the lead, pulling his reader out of his bag and turning it on. He stepped down the hall, checking for spikes in electric fields or drops in temperature. 

They moved into the living room. It was bare, dusty. There was a fireplace at the center, dead and cold. Stiles went around the perimeter, watching his reader carefully. Even if he just got one unexplainable blip, he would be satisfied.

"So," Peter started, voice soft and unobtrusive. He was standing at the entrance of the room, probably not wanting to get in the way. "What got you into the paranormal?"

Stiles paused, biting his lip. "Uh," he said, looking down at his reader instead of at Peter. "When I was a kid, I saw a ghost."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, uh..." Stiles turned toward the kitchen, satisfied with his couple laps around the living room. "When I nine, my mom died. I was there in the hospital when she passed."

The volume of Peter's sounded behind him, louder than before, and Stiles wondered if they were deliberately so. "That's must have been tough for someone so young."

Stiles nodded, glad that Peter hadn't said he was sorry. He hated when people did that for things they had no hand in. "The thing is... I saw her in the hallway. I had gone to get a candy bar from one of the vending machines. I... The machine next to my mom's room didn't have Reese's." He leaned his hips against the little island in the kitchen. "I walked all over the hospital looking for it. It's such a stupid detail to remember."

He turned, looking to Peter, who stepped closer, almost in his space, eyes on his face. "She was right there when I got back, just... standing there. She smiled at me. Then I blinked, and she was gone. I ran to her room, and she was dead."

Peter lifted his hand, cupping the side of Stiles's face. His expression was solemn. "I have no idea how to respond to that," he said, cracking a smile.

Stiles laughed, slumping right into Peter's front. "You don't have to respond. Thanks for listening and not calling me a crazy person."

"Pff, I know crazy, and you're not it," Peter told him, rubbing a hand up and down his back, which felt absolutely awesome. "You are, at best, slightly unhinged."

Stiles guffawed right into Peter's shoulder, loud in the quiet. "That's not nice."

"When did I say I was nice?" was Peter's answering purr.

A shiver raked down Stiles's back as warmth curled in his belly. He pulled back, looking at Peter's face, such a handsome face. He was overcome by the urge to kiss him, and by Peter's half-lidded expression, he'd probably be receptive.

He shivered again, though this time it wasn't from arousal. It was suddenly very, very cold.

The reader in Stiles's hand burst into life, making Stiles jump back from Peter a bit to look at it. All the lights were flashing, the needle on the electrometer pinging back and forth across the scale. Stiles looked at Peter, letting out a slightly terrified breath that became fog in front of his face.

"Stiles!" Peter shouted, jerking him out of the way right as something black and horrid charged toward them. It lashed out with a long, gnarled limb and smacked Peter out of the kitchen and into the living room, where he skidded across the floor.

Then it turned toward Stiles, who backed up against the wall with the reader against his chest. He didn't know what he was looking at. Its form was twisted, barely even humanoid, more like darkness clinging to what was once a person's shape. It didn't even have a face, just two milky white eyes suspended in a furious fog.

Stiles had the very absurd thought that he hoped he didn't actually piss himself on his first date with Peter. Though, that thought was quickly replaced with the hope that he wasn't about to actually fucking die because the apparition was reaching for him with long, knobby fingers.

The sound Stiles heard next was even more astounding than the being in front of him. It was an inhuman roar. Stiles managed to tear his eyes away from the spirit and looked toward the noise. Peter was back in the kitchen, face monstrous, teeth and nails long and pointed, and eyes glowing a vibrant red. He was howling.

The spirit shrieked, the fog about its form bursting away until all the was left was a small, scared old man. He was translucently white, shaking as if confused. He lifted his face, revealing his eyes, milky with cataracts and completely blind. He let out a small sound, maybe a sob, then he folded in on himself and dissipated into nothingness.

Stiles looked down at his reader as it quieted down and went quiet. "Whoa," he whispered, looking over at Peter and watching his features smooth out to handsome and human. "Holy shit." Stiles swallowed a few times. "Damn." He couldn't conjure up anything to say other than similar exclamations of confusion and amazement.

"Are you alright?" Peter asked, stepping closer.

"Yeah," Stiles said, even though he was definitely shaking. He managed to put his reader in his bag, giving up on the clasp when he couldn't get a handle on it. "I'm good." He tried to take a step toward Peter, to reassure him, but his legs refused, and he fell right into the man's arms.

"Oh," he said into Peter's shoulder.

Peter laughed softly, his warm breath huffing out across Stiles's hair. "Here," he said, then effortlessly swung Stiles up into in his arms. He smiled at him, almost smug looking.

Stiles just stuck his face into Peter's neck, grinning to himself. He could get used to being carried places.

"Shall we go, or did you want to take more readings?" Peter asked. Yeah, he was definitely being smug.

"I think you might have actually exorcised this place, so there's no point. Carry me into the sunset." Stiles swung his legs back and forth a couple times.

Peter laughed, and Stiles was struck again by how attractive he was. "Alright, into the sunset it is." He spun them around, navigating the dimly lit area easily. When he opened the front door and light spilled onto them, it only made Stiles want him more.

"I have condoms," Stiles blurted out.

Peter paused on the porch, looking honestly taken aback. For a half of a second, Stiles thought that perhaps he had been too forward. Maybe Peter wanted to take things slow, get to know him more. Maybe he had a hard and fast three date before sex rule.

But then Peter bared his teeth in an animalistic smile that had goosebumps sprouting up all over Stiles's body. "Did you bring lube?"

Stiles shook his head slowly, letting out a self-deprecating chuckle.

"That's alright," Peter said, dropping off the porch with a small hop and crossing the yard to his bike. "I have plenty at my place."

Stiles squeaked, excited.

 

* * *

 

Peter lived in an apartment tower that could only be called art deco. Stiles stared up at it, then laughed in Peter's ear when he pulled into the parking garage. "I should have known!" he said over the hum of the bike's engine.

"Yes," Peter said, after parking and turning off the bike. "I'm a horrible snob." He said, getting off the bike and pulling off his helmet. He held out his hand to Stiles. "Just wait until you see my stained-glass mosaic light fixtures."

"Oh god," Stiles said, taking his hand and getting off the bike. "Is it too late to change my mind about dating you?"

"Yup." Peter pulled Stiles up against his body and touched their noses together. "You're mine now, baby boy."

Stiles's body gave a violent shiver, and he couldn't help his grin. "I guess I can get used to that." 

Peter snorted. He got Stiles's bag and hoisted it over his shoulder. "C'mon, you." He put his hand on Stiles's ass and urged him toward the elevator.

Despite the outward look of the building, Peter's apartment wasn't nearly as pretentious as it could have been. It looked warm and inviting even from just the entryway. There was a wooden table by the door with a little green misshapen bowl which looked like it had been made by a child. Peter dropped his keys into it and turned to put the helmets in a small closet.

Stiles dropped his bag by the table and looked closer at the bowl. Across the inside, under the glaze, there were crooked metallic stickers that read BEST UNCLE. Stiles couldn't help his smile, and he looked back at Peter. "So who made this for you?"

Peter snorted as he pulled off his leather jacket. "My niece, Cora."

"The realtor?"

"That's Laura. Cora's an artist." He turned, broad-shouldered and way too sexy in that shirt with its plunging neckline. Those arms, damn.

"Any other nieces I should know about?" Stiles asked, failing at casual as he walked right into Peter's space and felt up his arms.

Peter flexed for him. Stiles could have swooned. "No. I have a nephew named Derek. He's an elementary teacher."

"Neat," Stiles said, suddenly at a lack for things to say. So he just went with, "On a related note, which way is your bedroom?" He flashed his best smile.

Peter's face did a funny thing like he was trying really hard not to laugh. "Let me show you."

Stiles wasn't prepared for Peter to dip down and toss him right over his broad shoulder. Upside down was a viewpoint he didn't have often. And this view had Peter's round butt in it, so he approved. He watched it flex as Peter's walked, holding onto Peter's hips, so he didn't swing and break his nose on it. Then he was upended and plopped onto a soft bed.

"Oh wow, your mattress is so much more awesome than mine." Stiles ran his hands over the comforter. It had little fuzzies in places like it was well-used and had been washed many times. It also smelled very clean. Stiles didn't know why it was so endearing that Peter had owned this blanket for possibly years. Maybe because he looked like the kind of guy that replaced things after they started to show a little wear and tear?

"Don't fall asleep until after, alright?" Peter said, pulling Stiles back into focus. "You'll bruise my ego otherwise."

Stiles covered his face with his hands, hiding his grin. "Oh god," he mumbled, before he sat up, pulling off his hoodie and kicking off his shoes at the same time. "I guess you better hurry then."

Peter's expression went a little wild, and he started relieving them both of their clothes very fast. Soon they were down to their underwear. Peter's body was rocking, all hard and broad. Stiles felt very pale and skinny in comparison. But Peter's eyes swept over him, gaze hungry, and Stiles knew that Peter liked him just the way he was.

Peter crawled up onto the bed right between Stiles's legs, putting his forearms on the mattress on either side of Stiles's head and caging him in. He leaned in, and Stiles knew he was about to be kissed and love it, but his hyperactive brain started sending alarm signals in every direction.

"Wait," Stiles said, his libido screaming in agony as he stopped Peter with a hand on his chest. Peter froze, brows going up. "So, uh, like, I'm totally into what's going down here, but I just have to ask... You're not just interested in getting in on virgin territory, right?"

If possible, Peter's brows went higher, almost disappearing into his disheveled bangs. He lifted up onto his hands, staring down at Stiles before he sat back on his heels. "You're a virgin?"

Stiles opened his mouth and closed it a few times like a fish gasping. "Are you--" He sat up. "You didn't know? How didn't you know? It's in my profile."

Peter shrugged a shoulder. "I don't really look at that part of the profiles. It doesn't matter to me who is and who isn't a virgin."

Stiles dragged a hand down his face. "But--In my cam session with Isaac, I talked about it. Didn't you see that?"

"I don't watch the sessions," Peter said, shaking his head. "I'm not the type of boss that samples the merchandise."

Stiles made a face at that turn of phrase.

"That's not what I meant," Peter said quickly, taking Stiles's hand. "What I mean is I don't want to cross a line with any of my employees. That's why I didn't ask you out after talking to you that first couple of times. It's a conflict of interest. People may think I'm taking advantage, holding your job over your head for sexual favors." 

Stiles turned his hand to grip Peter's. "Or they might just think I'm trying to sleep my way to the top." He rubbed his thumb over Peter's fingers. "I liked you pretty much immediately too, but I didn't tell you, because you were my boss."

Peter lifted their joined hands and kissed the back of Stiles's. "I'm glad you put in your two weeks." He leaned in. "Though, I don't know how I'll ever replace you."

Stiles grinned, nose wrinkling. "I'm sure you'll do okay." He leaned in the rest of the way, pressing their lips together softly. Peter tipped his head just a little so the angle was better, opening his mouth to meet Stiles's tongue with his own. The kiss was slow, easy, sensual.

Stiles wasn't sure if Peter was slowing down because he wanted Stiles's first time to be perfect or whatever, but he had to admit that he liked this. He slid his hands up Peter's arms, over the backs of his shoulders and into his hair.

Peter caught his tongue, giving it a little nip, and Stiles squeaked before laughing and tugging him down so Peter was draped over his body. Again, he was so warm, not to the point where it was uncomfortable, more like wrapping a snuggly blanket fresh from the dryer around your body. The warmth gave Stiles goosebumps, made him arch up against Peter's body, a languid stretch before settling with Peter sinking deeper into the V-shape his legs made.

Stiles was starting to get hard, and he could feel Peter reacting against his hip. This was happening. This was so totally happening. He broke the kiss to suck in a ragged breath, feeling a little foggy in the head as he looked up at Peter. "Can--Can we--?" He shifted, poking Peter in the pelvis with his erection.

Peter snorted, nodding before he sat up and hooked his fingers the hems of Stiles's Spider-Man boxers. He slid them down, going slow and gazing down like the slow reveal of Stiles's unruly brown pubes and his excited dick popping out to say  _ hello! _ was the most enticing thing he had ever seen. He pulled the boxers the rest of the way off, Stiles's legs going in every direction before he caught his right leg and kissed the side of his knee.

"Oh, oh shit," Stiles whispered, watching with wide eyes as Peter shifted back on the bed, all the while planting butterfly kisses across the sensitive skin of Stiles's inner thigh. He lifted up onto his elbows and watched Peter smear the side of his mouth in the crease of Stiles’s thigh. 

Was that scent marking? Did werewolves do that? Stiles would have asked, but Peter flashed his red eyes at him and dragged his broad tongue up the length of Stiles’s dick, making him forget out to form words. It was all he could do to lift up onto his elbow and take in the sight of Peter sucking his cock between his lips and hollowing out his cheeks.

If Stiles died right there, he wouldn’t have given even a little bit of a damn. 

Stiles had given a couple really terrible blowjobs, but the only thing he’d ever really received was a hesitant handjob that didn’t actually get anything done before the guy he had been with had given up. This was transcendental compared to that.

He could barely keep still and let Peter do what he wanted. His body wanted to move, wanted more, wanted to control the pace, even though he knew this sweet agony was better than anything that he could set. Peter moved like they had all the time in the world, tongue swirling in torturous patterns along the slit of his dick then down to the base before going back up to repeat.

Stiles’s thighs were quivering at the effort to keep them apart. He let go of the covers and reached down with a shaky, hesitant hand to touch Peter’s hair. In response, Peter sucked him extra hard. Stiles got the message and sank his fingers into Peter’s dark hair, arching and moaning loud as sensation built and built and built to the breaking point… then stayed there.

A breathy whine left Stiles’s mouth. He was close, so close. He glanced at Peter, found him watching his face with intense blue eyes. He flicked his tongue across the flare of the head of Stiles’s dick and seemed to smile around him as Stiles sobbed at how good that felt.

“Please,” Stiles begged, not even slightly proud at the moment. “Please, Daddy!”

Peter started sucking him hard, bobbing his head fast and digging his fingers into Stiles’s thighs. It was too much, much more than Stiles needed to bring him to a shaking, moaning orgasm as he fisted his hands in Peter’s hair.

Afterwards, he went someplace else mentally for a little bit, his mind flying high on oxytocin. Was this what an out-of-body experience felt like? He didn’t even remember what it felt like to have a body. He floated, weightless, until he felt the gravity of existence again and came back to himself.

Peter was there, touching his face gently. “Welcome back, pet,” he said, voice low and rumbly.

Stiles sucked in a ragged breath. “Holy shit,” he managed, before he laughed, covering his eyes with his hand. “That was a thing that just happened.” He felt Peter’s lips against his jaw and peeked through his fingers at him. 

“I’d love for you to make those noises again, especially if they are my doing,” Peter said into Stiles’s skin, before he gave it a little nip. 

"I mean," Stiles managed to say, flapping a hand at the wrist. "Go nuts, buddy. I think I'd let you do anything to me right about now."

Peter let out a huff of a laugh. "You shouldn’t say  _ anything. _ " He pulled Stiles's hand away from his face, and Stiles blinked up at him, at his smile. "But, I would certainly love to fuck you, Stiles. Is that something you'd like?"

Stiles squeaked, nodding. "Yeah. Yes. Of course."

Peter kissed him, and Stiles moaned softly against his lips. "Then relax and let me take care of absolutely everything."

Stiles was about to say he'd never been more relaxed in his life, but Peter had him by the knee and flipped him over before he could manage the words. He huffed, looking back at Peter, who seemed to make a show of opening his bedside drawer and pulling out a bottle of lube.

"Oh damn," Stiles whispered, grabbing a pillow and pulling it under his ear to wrap his arms around it, soit, so he didn't have to crane his head back to watch.

Peter gave him a toothy smile before he bent down and gave the swell of Stiles's left ass cheek a nip, which made him jump. Peter chuckled, and Stiles laughed quietly back. After that, Peter massaged his ass cheeks, which shouldn't have felt so awesome, but it really did. He rubbed and molded them until they were warm and tingly. Then he parted them and swiped his thumb right over Stiles's hole.

It was a weird feeling. He'd played with the area before, but he couldn't predict was Peter was going to do. He bit his lip and hid his face in the pillow as Peter rubbed his thumb back and forth across the furrowed skin. He whimpered as that thumb pressed harder, almost enough to push in. Gasping softly, he angled his hips back, trying to get him to do it.

"Good boy," Peter murmured to him, and Stiles shuddered, wanting to be good for Peter all the time. Peter's hand withdrew but came back after a few moments, this time slick with cool lube. Now, Stiles had taken a couple of his own fingers before, but they felt so different from Peter's finger. It was much less tentative than his own, sliding in and out of his inner walls.

Stiles put a hand in his hair, gasping quietly and edging his legs further apart. In answer, Peter pressed another of his thick fingers in, pulling a whimper from Stiles's mouth. It was so good, even better when he twisted his hand to spread his fingers apart. "Fuck, fuck," he chanted into the pillow, pulling his lip between his teeth and chewing at it.

When Peter's fingertips raked over his prostate, Stiles almost left the bed entirely with that strong jolt of pleasure. Peter chuckled, laying his hand on Stiles's lower back and putting pressure to keep him there. "Easy, baby." He rubbed that spot again, and Stiles whined, pushing his hips back as much as he could.

"Oh, do you want another?" Peter purred to him, slipping the hand on Stiles's back up to squeeze the back of his neck. "Think you can take it?"

Stiles keened, jerking his hips. "Yes, Daddy, please." He wanted it. He wanted everything.

Peter slipped another finger into him slowly. It was more than Stiles had ever taken, and it made his mouth drop open in a pant. "That's my boy," Peter said as he stroked Stiles inside, rubbing his hand down his back. "My good boy."

"Yours," Stiles said without even questioning it. He closed his eyes as he felt Peter lean down over him, pressing a kiss between his shoulders as he spread his fingers as stretched Stiles out. "Ngh, fuck!"

"Too much?" Peter asked, dragging his fingertips across Stiles's prostate.

"Not enough," Stiles answered, his voice a bit muffled by his arms. "More, please."

"As you wish." 

Four fingers were a lot of fingers, especially with someone as thick-handed as Peter. But even though it was startling and on the edge of too much, Stiles had Peter there to stroke his back through it. Peter didn't move his hand at all until everything muscle in Stiles's body relaxed one by one.

"Nnaaah!" Stiles tossed his head back as Peter pistoned four fingers in and out of him like the steady moving part of a locomotive. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"That's what I like to hear," Peter said, keeping up the movement of his hand and slipping his other one around Stiles's hip to squeeze his dick. It was hard, leaking, almost painful. "Come when you feel ready, baby."

Stiles started shaking his head before he even realized why he didn't want that. "No, no, in me, I want you in me," he sobbed, looking over his shoulder at Peter. "Please. I don't want to come without it."

Peter looked surprised, but he promptly slipped his fingers out of Stiles ass. There was a wet squelching noise, but Stiles couldn't bring himself to be embarrassed. He did turn bright red when Peter leaned over him and asked, "Where are your condoms?”

Shit. "Uh. In my bag." He licked his lips. "By the front door."

Peter blinked before he laughed. It wasn't mocking or even a little mean. It was affectionate. "That's alright," he said, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to Stiles's cheek. "Unlike you, I'm always prepared."

"Were you a boy scout?" Stiles asked, watching Peter lean back to fetch a condom from his bedside table. He was trying not to think about how empty his ass felt and how new that sensation was.

"No, I was never one to conform to society's view of what a good kid was," Peter said, coming out with a condom wrapped in purple metallic foil. "I was better at being bad."

Stiles licked his lips. "Same."

Peter chuckled, giving Stiles's ass a little swat. "I know." He shifted so he could wiggle out of his black briefs, his cock springing out in a slightly hilarious imitation of a Jack-in-the-box.

It was a beautiful dick though. Long, thick, uncut with a mild patch of black hair at the base. Could dicks be beautiful? If so, Peter's dick was gorgeous. Arousal made Stiles weird.

He watched as Peter opened the condom packet, pulled out the condom and rolled it down his dick on one smooth, easy motion, pinching the tip between two fingers. That was pretty beautiful too, if Stiles was being honest with himself. Here, naked and waiting--wanting--to be speared by Peter's beautiful dick, he was nothing but honest.

Peter gathered him up, tucking Stiles with his against Peter's chest as he laid them down on their side. He pressed a surprisingly tender kiss to Stiles's shoulder, shifting so he could slowly start to push in.

Stiles exhaled at the stretch, eyes fluttering shut. It was good, so good, so perfect. He felt full, felt taken care of and treasured. He tipped his head back and bumped his forehead into Peter's chin, moaning as he bottomed out, a weight anchoring him to the here and now.

"I've got you, sweet boy," Peter murmured to him, wrapping him in his arms as he started to move his hips in slow circles. 

"Daddy," Stiles sighed back, laying his hands on Peter's arms and holding him just as tight.

He had never understood slow sex, never understood why the people in porn didn't just race to the finish line. But now he knew. This intimacy went beyond just pleasure. It opened them up, bared their souls to each other. It was steady to and fro with Peter rolling his up hips and Stiles rocking his hips back to meet him. It was perfectly synchronized, almost like a conversation that only they could understand at that moment.

Stiles almost forgot the pleasure, more focused on the sound of Peter breathing and the smell of his sweat. But then the tingles in his lower back started, sweeping up his spine and tightening his balls. He started whining, moaning, begging Peter to move just a little faster as he felt himself float closer to the edge.

Peter obliged, putting more oomph into the movements of his hips. He started dragging hard, over and over, across Stiles's prostate, almost like he was aiming. Was that a thing? If it wasn't, it was a happy accident. If it was intentional,  _ damn _ it was working.

"Mm-mmn!" Stiles managed, catching Peter's ankle with his feet and urging himself backward hard enough to make Peter grunt. "Fuck, fuck I'm so close, nng."

"Gonna come for me, baby? Huh? Gonna come untouched for Daddy?" Peter panted in his ear, pulling his hips back and slamming in hard enough to make Stiles cry out with bliss. "Come on. I want to feel it. Come for me, baby boy."

Stiles did, trembling and calling out Peter's name as he hugged his arms for dear life. Peter worked him through it, undulating in slow, smooth circles as he twitched. He floated again, weightless and fucked out. 

When he came back down, Peter was still rocking at that languid pace. However, his arms were trembling just a little, and he was breathing harder than before. Stiles turned his head and bumped his nose against Peter. "Fuck me," he whispered. "Come on, I want to feel you come too, Daddy."

Peter hissed out a breath, his arms shooting down to grab Stiles under the knee and lift his leg up high. Peter started moving hard, and it was overwhelming and awesome. Stiles cried out, unable to do more than take it. He stretched his neck out, face into one of the pillows, and whimpered when Peter set his teeth against the crook of his shoulder.

When Peter came, it was like a force of nature. He let out an inhuman growl, teeth digging in just shy of breaking the skin. He slammed his hips against Stiles's ass, sinking in a deep as he could go and coming so hard he twitched inside Stiles. He held Stiles tight through the aftershocks, arms wrapped around his chest and waist.

The air in the room changed, tension breaking, and suddenly Stiles could breathe again. He gasped, opening his eyes and turning his head just enough to see Peter laving his tongue gently across the growing bruise on his shoulder. Stiles didn't mind at all, but the almost apologetic way that Peter was treating him made warmth and affection bloom in his chest.

"Hey," Stiles said, his voice a bit like a croak from all the screaming his did.

Peter looked up, nuzzling the spot he'd bit. "Hey yourself." 

Chuckling, Stiles reached up and clawed his way through Peter's hair. "That was awesome." He stretched out a leg and squeezed his muscles around Peter's softening dick. They both moaned.

"It was," Peter told him, trailing a line of kisses from Stiles's shoulder up to his ear. "Still is."

Stiles let out a soft laugh, tipping his head back more so Peter could have all the access he liked. "Can't wait to do it again. Next time, I'm gonna ride you like a cowboy."

Peter laughed against his skin, and Stiles had to laugh too, hugging Peter's arms to his front.

When he had stumbled upon the cam website those few months ago, he hadn't had any expectations. The most he had thought he might get was a little extra money. He had absolutely no idea he would find new friends, an entirely new paranormal world to explore, and the lover of his dreams.

Those were not bad results from a little typo.

Not bad at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's almost over... Only the epilogue left. We hear from Chris and Deuc, and Stiles has his last show. :) I should have that out before the month is over.
> 
> Hey guess what! I have a tumblr dedicated just to my writing now! [Check it out!](https://thesushiowlwrites.tumblr.com)


	10. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stiles's song is On Top of the World by Imagine Dragons

Stiles was focusing on his phone when bare toes nudged at the bottom of his foot, making him jerk with a giggle. He settled, scrolling through his Facebook, when it happened again, this time the edge of a big toe sliding down the center of the sole of his foot, making him squeal with laughter and jerk his feet up, tucking them into safety. "Stop it, I'm concentrating," he said, grinning all the same.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Peter was lying next to him on the bed. The huge, soft bed that was an awesome square and had enough room for Stiles's antelope legs in all directions. He had his laptop balanced on his belly, tap-tapping away. He was dressed in his lazy day clothes, which was a white tank top with a hole in the bottom hem and a pair of faded black sweats. No underwear. His jaw looked rough with a day's worth of facial hair.

Stiles couldn't help but lean over and kiss it. Peter smiled and turned his head to kiss him back before returning to his work. They had only been together for a couple weeks, but they had easily fallen into such a comfortable relationship that they could already have companionable silences. It may have seemed fast to some, but when it works, then it works.

Going back to his phone, Stiles checked his email and was surprised to see that he had a message from Deucalion. He read it and blinked a few times before he read it again. "Huh," was his opinion, a smiling growing across his face.

"Hm?"

"Deucalion has a boyfriend," he said, scrolling down in the email to find a picture attached. He opened it and let out an  _ aww. _ "Look." He turned the phone toward Peter, showing the picture, which was definitely a selfie of Deucalion and a handsome guy, smiling while pressed cheek to cheek.

"He's cute," Peter said, tipping his head to the side.

"Oh you think so, do you?" Stiles said, and Peter cleared his throat before going back to his computer. Stiles grinned and snuggled up against Peter's side. "Yeah, he's cute. Let's see. Apparently, he's a cop."

Peter snorted out a laugh. "Did Deucalion try to weasel his way out of a speeding ticket by offering to take this cop on a date?"

Stiles bit his lip to avoid some giggles. "It doesn't say."

"I wouldn't put it past him."

Stiles headbutted Peter's shoulder. "Stop it. His name is Jordan Parrish." Stiles squinted at the phone. Where did he know that name from? After a minute, his eyes popped open wide and gasped. "Oh my god!"

Peter jumped, almost unseating his laptop. "What?"

"I know him! He's one of my dad's deputies! The one he tried to set me up with!" He covered his face with his faces, phone pressed against his cheek. "Oh my god, that's amazing!"

Eyebrows up in his fluffy post-shower bangs, Peter smiled a weird little smile at him. "Your dad tried to set you up with one of his deputies?"

Stiles shrugged. "He means well."

"Let me see that photo again?" When Stiles held his phone over, Peter gave a hum. "He's too young for you," he said, going back to his laptop as he pressed his lips together.

"Oh, I'm sure!" Stiles looked at the photo. "I dunno. He  _ is _ cute, after all."

"Cute, yes, but you need someone that knows what he's doing," Peter told him, lifting his chin haughtily.

"Yeah, know someone you can recommend?" Stiles grinned as the look Peter gave him.

"Ouch, baby, that cuts right to the core." Peter chuckled anyway because he could appreciate a good burn, even one directed at himself. "I got a rather surprising message too."

"Mm?" Stiles queried, already neck-deep in Tumblr scrolling.

"Chris found someone too."

"No shit?" Stiles looked up as Peter turned his laptop his way. Yup, there Chris was, pressing a kiss to the cheek of a smiling young man. He had dirty blond hair, dark brown eyes, cheekbones that wouldn't quit, and freckles for days. He also had a little gap in his front teeth. He was adorable. "Duncan, huh?" he asked, his cheek smooshed against Peter's arm. "Cam boy?"

Peter shook his head. "Says here he's a rookie hunter from an Irish division. Chris has taken him under his wing and is showing him the ropes."

Stiles couldn't help himself. "I bet that's not all he's showing him, am I right?"

"Oh, I'm sure Chris has taken him under other things too."

That launched Stiles straight into a giggle fit that lasted for a full two minutes. God, Stiles was so lucky to have found someone like Peter. There was no way he would find anyone else that was sophisticated, had a sexy grasp of fashion, owned his own very successful business, and also had the sense of humor of a twelve-year-old. That combination didn't come along often, so now that Stiles had his claws in he was not letting go.

Peter closed out of all of his windows and brought up the website. He patted Stiles's thigh. "Ready to do this?"

"Yup!" Stiles said, taking the laptop as Peter got up and went over to where he'd set up the video camera. "This isn't going to be weird for you?"

"How do you mean?" Peter asked, fiddling with the settings on the camera. 

"You've never had such a... hands-on role in a cam session, have you?" Stiles asked as he put his log-in info into the boxes. 

Peter's lips quirked at the edge. "You make it sound like I'm about to fuck you on camera."

Stiles didn't say anything, but his face felt hot all of the sudden. He focused on getting into his channel. Just a few minutes until he went live. All his Loyal Daddies were already there, waiting and chatting with one another. "Here good?"

Peter nodded. "Got your music ready?"

"I do!" Stiles said, reaching over to grab his phone and USB speaker. He scrolled flicked his thumb across the screen until he found his song. "Okay, going live." 

When he hit the button, the screen counted down. He set the laptop in front of him, just to the side so he wouldn't be obscured by the screen. When he popped up on the preview, he grinned at the camera. "Hello, Daddies."

**BigPaw:** halo!

**Howl4Me:** What's this about this being your last show?

**CrystalProphet:** nooo!

**CasanovaSir:** Wait, what?

Other Daddies in the channel expressed similar woes, and Stiles chuckled, feeling his heart swell a bit. "Yeah, it's my last show. I put in my notice two weeks ago."

**Padre9in:** but why

Stiles lifted and dropped his shoulders. "Because I found my very own Daddy."

**BigPaw:** who? do we know him

**Howl4Me:** Is it one of us? One of your viewers?

Shaking his head, Stiles drew his legs up and folded them. "You don't know him. He's actually working the camera right now."

That made Peter stick out his tongue at him.

**BigPaw:** kinky

**CasanovaSir:** Let him know that I will duel him at dawn for your honor if he hurts you.

Stiles laughed loudly at that, before he covered his mouth, snorting quietly into his palm. "I'll tell him. I wanted you guys to know that I appreciate everything you've given me. I don't just mean the money and the gifts. You guys were there for me when I was sad, and I don't think I could ever repay you. But I wanted to sing you one last song before I signed off for good."

**Howl4Me:** I'll miss you.

**CasanovaSir:** The internet's going to be a little colder and darker without your light.

"You should use that line on another cam boy," Stiles said, waggling his finger at the camera. "Because it's a good one. I'm serious, instant sex right there. Now, without any further ado..." He hit the play button, and a chorus of clapping started up. "If you love somebody, better tell them while they're here, 'cause they just may run away from you. You'll never know quite when, well then again it just depends on how long of a time is left for you." He pointed to the camera, wiggling a bit to the beat. "I've had the highest mountains. I've had the deepest rivers. You can have it all, but life keeps moving. I take it in but don't look down."

He bounced up to his feet and started pumping his hips. "'Cause I'm on top of the world, hey! I'm on top of the world, hey! Waiting for this for a while now, paying my dues to the dirt. I've been waiting to smile, been holding it in for a while. Take you with me if I can, been dreaming of this since a child. I'm on top of the world."

He shimmied back and forth, grinning as Peter covered his mouth to keep from laughing. "I've tried to cut these corners, tried to take the easy way out. I kept falling short of something. I coulda gave up then, but then I couldn't have, 'cause I traveled all this way for something. I take it in but don't look down." He started doing what was probably the bastardized, white version of the Single Ladies dance, but totally unrecognizable. "'Cause I'm on top of the world, hey! I'm on top of the world, hey! Waiting for this for a while now, paying my dues to the dirt. I've been waiting to smile, been holding it in for a while. Take you with me if I can, been dreaming of this since a child. I'm on top of the world."

He put his eyes up, shaking his ass this way and that, his voice going a bit breathy, but he couldn't stop grinning. "And I know it's hard when you're falling down. And it's a long way up with you hit the ground. Get up now, get up, get up now. I'm on top of the world, hey!"

As the music wound down, he dropped back on the bed, falling prey to another fit of laughter. He ended up on his side, clutching his middle as his stomach muscles cramped and clenched. "Oh, oh jeez," he managed, almost unable to breathe. He looked at Peter through watering eyes, finding a fond smile on his face. "Overdid it a little bit there."

Peter didn't say anything, instead indicating to the camera and biting his lip.

"Oh, right." Stiles sat up and pulled the laptop over to him. Belatedly, he shut off his Spotify as it tried to play  _ Underdog. _ He looked over the messages from his Daddies, the praise for his performance and the laments that he was leaving them. "I know, guys, but don't be sad. I'll miss you too, and I'll always be grateful for what you did for me." He blew them a kiss, waggled his fingers at the camera before he cut the feed.

"Ugh, that felt good," he said, shutting the laptop and moving it to safety on the nightstand. Then he plopped onto his side, cheek perched on his palm. "You're looking pensive," he said because Peter was fiddling with the camera instead of looking at him. "What's on your mind.?"

Peter looked up eyebrow lifting. "I was just wondering what would happen if I left this camera on." He shrugged a shoulder even as his eyes went a little neon red.

"Hm, dunno," Stiles said, rolling onto his back and stretching. "Why don't you find out?"

Peter flicked his tongue at the corner of his mouth before he came around the camera and tackled Stiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the story ends. :) Thanks for going on this ride with me.
> 
> Come say hi to me on Tumblr! [Tumblr](http://thesushiowl.tumblr.com) and [Writing Tumblr](https://thesushiowlwrites.tumblr.com)


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